#I hope this is what you meant by 'rules'!
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mila-stardust · 24 hours ago
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I'd love to add a quote from "Padawan" by Kiersten White:
“Just like Lenahra, he wasn’t in balance. Not with himself, not with the Force. For so long he had been afraid of being afraid. Closing himself off to his feelings because of what they might mean, what they might lead to. But closing himself off was doing the opposite of what he hoped. It wasn’t about not feeling fear or ambition or anything else he didn’t think was right for a Jedi. It was about whether or not he gave those feelings power. By ignoring his fears, pretending they weren’t there, even fighting them, he was making them more insidiously overwhelming than they ever would have been. So. Fear was there, and maybe it always would be. But he didn’t have to hide from it. Obi-Wan looked directly at the gulf of terror inside himself and let it wash over him as he settled on what his fears meant, at their core: Obi-Wan cared. He cared so much. He cared about the Jedi Order. He cared about the people in it. He cared about its history, about its rules, about its traditions. Even more than that, he cared about the Force and everything it touched. He cared about all the life in the galaxy, including this strange planet and everyone and everything on it."
I think this pretty much sums it up when it comes to bottling up your emotions and fears. As well as the difference between love (selflessness) and attachment (selfishness). Yes Obi-Wan loved Satine, but he wasn't attached to her, like Anakin was to Padme. And yes Anakin also loved Padme, but love slowly turned into attachment because of his fear and manipulation from Palpatine.
The thing is, in my opinion, love can become attachment and attachment can become love. It all depends on how we deal with ourselves and wether it is emotions that control us, or it is us that control the emotions.
Now, my only other opinion (probably biased) is that I believe Jedi Order shouldn't make relationships forbidden. As long as a person can let go when it's time (ex. Kanan Jarrus and Hera). And in my opinion, if Jedi were allowed to have relationships (without attachments (which is extremely hard BUT NOT impossible)), the Order would never fallen by Anakin's doing AND the Jedi would be one of the healthiest partners in relationships in the galaxy. That relationships would be HEALTHY and completely green-flagged. Since there's trust. Trust and respect. No jealousy, no anger, no fear of loss. Because nothing is possessed, and nothing is taken away. It's a deep bond of love. Love that is pure yet passionate. Strong like fire - yet without the fear of being burned. Love that is unselfish. A truly great Jedi can take on that responsibility of unconditional love. Jedi should be encouraged to love (to the point of allowing relationships), but not to attach themselves to something or someone. They would be encouraged to love unconditionally, without expecting anything in return, but they wouldn't love selfishly.
And I think the same goes for any irl relationship. We can love selflessly only if we allow ourselves to let go when the time is right. That's how you prevent love from becoming an attachment.
ミ☆
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THIS IS EVERY INSTANCE WHERE THE JEDI TALK ABOUT ATTACHMENT IN THE MOVIES AND TV SERIES, which paint a very clear, consistent picture of just what attachment meants within the Jedi Order and Star Wars itself. It’s about how attachment isn’t the same thing as love or connection or feelings, but specifically about the inability to let go of someone when its time, that the fear of their loss is so great you would give up a thousand lives to save just the one because you cannot live without them, because you are afraid. George Lucas has been very consistently, explicitly clear about this as well, that attachment is always tied possession, fear, greed, the desire to control people, the dark side, and the inability to accept that life is transitory, that you can’t hold on to people, you can’t keep them, you can’t possess them.  Attachment is fear, greed, the willingness to make a deal with the devil to save one person, no matter how many other lives it costs.  But, setting aside word of god commentary, the above is still the way the term is used within the text itself. That doesn’t mean it’s not difficult!  Feelings are complicated, messy things and it’s not that any personal desire is attachment, it’s not that moments of fear are the same as attachment, it’s the willingness to act on those feelings in ways that get a lot of people hurt, it’s about using the Force for selfish desires, because the Force is your emotions, if you do something for a selfish reason, if you do something based on fear, that is a step towards the dark side. Context for each of the scenes: Star Wars: Attack of the Clones:      “Attachment is forbidden.  Possession is forbidden. Compassion, which I would define as unconditional love, is central to a Jedi’s life.”      Anakin is explaining basic Jedi worldbuilding to Padme and the audience, he directly ties attachment to possession (as Lucas says, this is about wanting to possess a person: “[Jedi Knights] do not grow attachments, because attachment is a path to the dark side. You can love people, but you can’t want to possess them.“), instead explaining to her that compassion is central to their lives. Star Wars: The Clone Wars - “Downfall of a Droid”:     “I could take a squad out there, track him down.” "Anakin, it’s only a droid. You know attachment is not acceptable for a Jedi.”      The context of this scene is that Anakin is willing to not only put his own life on the line, but that he would put the clones’ lives and Ahsoka’s life on the line, in the middle of a war where they’re facing a weapon that is killing them in droves, to go find his droid.  This is the only time that Obi-Wan objects to Anakin’s affection for the droid throughout the entire series, when it’s about risking others’ lives to save Anakin’s favorite droid.  Any other time Anakin favors Artoo, Obi-Wan just reacts with fond annoyance. Star Wars: The Clone Wars - “Jedi Crash”:      “I can still sense your worry for Anakin, your attachment to him.“ "It’s just… I get so confused sometimes. It’s forbidden for Jedi to form attachments, yet we are supposed to be compassionate." "It is nothing to be ashamed of, Ahsoka. I went through the same process when I was your age with my own master.”      “You were right all along, Master Secura." "About what?" "If I had stayed with Anakin, we probably wouldn’t have found this village in time to save him.”      The context here is that Ahsoka’s desire to stay with Anakin would have potentially cost all of them their lives, because she couldn’t do anything more for him other than worry over him, but they needed to find help because he was going to die without it.  Ahsoka’s desire to be compassionate to her master is conflicting with her duty to help in a way that takes her away from him, and this is something young Jedi have to find the balance of, and that’s what the show is explaining to the audience.      It’s not always an easy path to find, sometimes Jedi are going to struggle with it, but Aayla was right and Ahsoka understands that at the end, along with the audience, that staying with him out of Ahsoka’s personal desire to do so against her duty to go get help, would have cost Anakin his life. Star Wars: The Clone Wars - “Brain Invaders”:     “Ahsoka, it’s your duty to save as many lives as you can. Barriss knew you could save thousands if the worms were destroyed. Which she thought meant destroying her, too. But you did the right thing. You knew the freezing cold would kill the worms. Letting go of our attachments is a difficult struggle for all of us.“      Barriss posed a very explicit danger to anyone she would come across, just as the clones had infected other clones and then Barriss herself, she would go on to do the same.  While Ahsoka found a way around it this time, the conflict here is that Ahsoka was weighing her personal desire to not have her friend die versus the thousands of people her friend might go on to hurt.  Attachment isn’t just that Ahsoka cared about Barriss, but that conflict of saving her life at the cost of others’ lives, because Ahsoka herself wanted it, because she was afraid to live without her friend.      The opening title card quote for this episode is, “Attachment is not compassion.” Star Wars: The Clone Wars - "Voyage of Temptation”:     "My duty as a Jedi demanded I be elsewhere." "Demanded? But it’s obvious you had feelings for her.  Surely that would affect your decision." "It did.  I live by the Jedi Code." "Of course.  As Master Yoda says: ‘A Jedi must not form attachments.’”      Letting go of attachments isn’t easy, there’s sadness and remorse in it often times!  But the scene here is once again that Obi-Wan is telling Anakin that his duty asked him to be elsewhere and that’s when the conflict between his desire to stay for his own reasons and his duty as a Jedi made it an issue.  Up to that point, we’re given no indication that it was any kind of issue (and in a later episode we’re told romantic feelings are natural according to the Jedi, they’re not forbidden), we see Jedi caring deeply about their friends and Masters and Padawans, it’s only when they’re willing to abandon their duty to save lives, the lives that are depending on them, that it becomes an issue.      Had Obi-Wan been willing to let those people’s lives be in danger because he personally was unwilling to give up being with Satine, then that is what the problem would have been. Star Wars: The Clone Wars - “The Rise of Clovis”:    "You’ve met Satine. You know I once harbored feelings for her. It’s not that we’re not allowed to have these feelings.  It’s natural.”     In this scene, it’s just after Anakin has beaten the crap out of Rush Clovis because he saw him kissing Padme and lost control, that it wasn’t about defending Padme, it was about his jealousy, even after the dust settles, he still believes she has feelings for Clovis.  Anakin’s inability to trust her and his possessive jealousy are at a boiling point, he is unable to see her clearly, he is sliding into fearful, angry possession of her, which is when Obi-Wan comes to talk to him.      In contrast, in “A Distant Echo”, Obi-Wan makes it clear he knows about Anakin and Padme, (”I hope you at least told Padme I said hello.”) but there’s no conversation about getting himself under control because Anakin is no longer at a boiling point with his feelings.      The Jedi don’t forbid feelings, not even romantic feelings, while they do forbid attachment.  They cannot be the same thing.  (Though, they do say you can’t be in a committed relationship and be a Jedi, but that’s not the same thing.) Star Wars: The Clone Wars - “Front Runners”:     “Ahsoka, remember what I told you about staying focused.” “I can’t help it, Master.” “I understand.” “You do?” “I do. But try to remember, always put purpose ahead of your feelings.“      This instance doesn’t directly mention the word attachment, but it’s same the context–Anakin’s advice is in line with everything else we see in the series, that it’s not that Ahsoka’s feelings are an issue, but that she can’t let them cloud her judgement, because the people of Onderon’s lives are on the line here.      It’s the same as how Obi-Wan’s feelings for Satine weren’t an issue until there was a conflict with his duty, just as Anakin’s feelings for Padme in Attack of the Clones weren’t an issue, Obi-Wan saw them quite clearly, until they were in conflict with Anakin’s duty. Star Wars: The Clone Wars - "The Jedi Who Knew Too Much”:     “Every time I think about this, I feel conflicted. It’s hard not to let feelings turn into attachment and pain.“      In this scene is that, with so many Jedi dying and the war being so hard on them, there’s a lot of fear and anger that they have to let go of, that Ahsoka and Barriss are coming back from a funeral for several Jedi and it’s a painful moment.  Ahsoka compares it to the Brain Invaders storyline, “Like, when we were stuck inside the battle tank on Geonosis, it was hard not to be afraid. Still, you and I got past it. And I guess we’ll get past this.”      The concept of attachment is again directly tied to fear and pain and suffering, that the solution (the one Anakin teaches her, that Ahsoka says he would say, “Our struggle as Jedi is to move past [these feelings of anger and fear].“) is to let go of them, to move past them–which is something Lucas has said multiple times is the theme of his movies.      ”[The Jedi] trained more than anything else to understand the transitional nature of life, that things are constantly changing and you can’t hold on to anything. You can love things but you can’t be attached to them, You must be willing to let the flow of life and the flow of the Force move through your life, move through you. So that you can be compassionate and loving and caring, but not be possessive and grabbing and holding on to things and trying to keep things the way they are. Letting go is the central theme of the film.“ –George Lucas, Star Wars Archives 1999-2005       “The key to the dark side is fear. You must be clean of fear, and fear of loss is the greatest fear. If you’re set up for fear of loss, you will do anything to keep that loss from happening, and you’re going to end up in the dark side. That’s the basic premise of Star Wars and the Jedi, and how it works.“ –George Lucas, Star Wars Archives 1999-2005 Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith:      “Attachment leads to jealousy, the shadow of greed, that is.“     This is a scene where Anakin has become so afraid of losing Padme that he’s starting to go off the deep end about it, he’s butting up against his willingness to make a deal with the devil to save her from something he doesn’t even know for sure is going to happen.  The story of Revenge of the Sith is that Anakin is so afraid to lose her that he will murder not just the adult Jedi and help Sidious create an Empire, but he will murder literal toddlers to save the person he wants to save.  It is the very definition of attachment, of greed and fear. The above are every time that “attachment” is mentioned by a Jedi in the movies and the TV series, this is the entire context for what it means to the Jedi and to Star Wars.  Does the term have other meanings in popular lexicon?  Sure, but this one is closer to the Buddhist meaning and the way the characters speak of it, the context of their scenes and when they talk about it, the events that surround it, are all consistent with that attachment means a specific thing, that it’s synonymous with the fear of losing someone, so intense that you’re willing to sacrifice a thousand lives just to hold onto the one person. Attachment isn’t just harmful for the person who can’t let go, it’s something that costs thousands of people their lives.  And the Jedi only bring it up in that context, when it’s about the conflict of their personal desires against people who are depending on them, we see that otherwise personal desires and relationships aren’t commented on.  It’s only when a Jedi is willing to let people get hurt for their own desires that the Jedi talk about attachment.
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ddejavvu · 1 day ago
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Spring Fling - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader (Part Five) (18+) / Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four
Summary: You should have known the ‘no refunds’ detail on the website for Spring Fling was a red flag. But you paid no mind to it, eager to be assigned a quick fuck for spring break. When the man that walks through your cabin door is none other than Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, your wildly infuriating fellow pilot, you have two choices: bicker the entire time and have a miserable spring break, or fuck.
Contents/Warnings: smut, minors dni. fem!reader, pilot!reader, enemies/rivals to lovers, lots and lots of arguing, could these two people be any less cooperative, sex seven ways to sunday and then some, seriously like so much smut it'll make your eyes bleed, makeouts, rough sex, oral (m+f receiving), penetrative sex, will add as i post
WC: 7.0k / navigation / inbox
A/N: Thank you all for waiting for this chapter! I know it took me longer to finish this one than it did the others but it's the longest chapter so far, and I also had a lot of major life events go down in the time between this chapter and last. I appreciate each and every single one of you who stayed patient with me, and I hope that this chapter and that the rest to come are worth the wait :) <3
feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!
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You’re doing a terrible job at paying attention to where you’re going as you take the elevator, jamming your finger against the 12 button so hard it hurts. Pizza is on the twelfth floor, and you’re hoping Daniel will be there early like you so that you can forget about Jake and his tyrannical rule. 
It’s clear as day to you; Jake thinks he has control over you just the same way he has control over the girls that drool over him at the Hard Deck. He thinks one glance will melt your brain into mush, but it won’t. It doesn’t, and you’re not letting the cockiest man you know believe he’s won you over. Especially one that you work with. If anyone found out- if any of your fellow aviators knew that you’d succumbed to Jake’s charms… you’d risk losing the respect you’ve fought hard to earn on the tarmac. You’re not letting your career take a nosedive because Jake won’t stop bragging about getting his dick wet. He doesn’t get a say in your life if he has nothing genuine to contribute to it. You know him well enough to know that caving in and fucking would be the worst decision of your life, and you refuse to let him feel like he’s won you like a prize. You’re standing up for yourself; if he can shit-talk Daniel, you can shit-talk Miss Melons.
Your skin prickles with annoyance the more you think about the woman that had approached you both- seriously, did she not consider that she was being intrusive and rude? You assume Jake has snagged her away from her roommate by now, and they’re probably having a better time than you are. 
Everything feels unfair, down to the coincidental roommate placement. It’s like the universe had heard you needed a break, and wanted to punish you for it.
Cracking open your book helps, but it takes you a while to get into the groove. You’re sitting poolside across from the pizza place, eyes glancing from page to parlor every once in a while to check for a certain bearded man. The main lead is compelling, and your stomach soars as you imagine Daniel in a cowboy hat. You’d save that horse.
Peace is hard to find while sitting poolside on a cruise, but chaos is actually the perfect white noise for you to read, and your concentration isn’t broken until a shadow falls over your lounge chair. You glance up, but it’s not the man you’d wanted to see.
“Hey.” Jake’s already frowning, his face apprehensive like he thinks you’ll scream at him to get away. You want to, but you don’t want to cause a scene.
“What, Hangman?”
“I’m not trying to control you.” He pushes despite seeing your gaze back on your book, “I just don’t think you’re meant to be with Daniel. But I shouldn’t have given you a hassle for doing the same thing to me. I just… I do it because-”
He stops short, glancing sideways at a man running despite the clear no running sign on the lifeguard tower. You decide to help him in his moment of need.
“Because you’re used to women who let you walk all over them. Even if you’re not trying to control me, you’re used to having that control. It’s familiar for you, so you expect it, even if you don’t know you’re doing it. But I’m not like that. You can’t keep me waiting on you.”
The scoff he lets out is accompanied by an expression that looks truly pained, “That ain’t it at all. But forget it. Don’t worry about why I do it. I just thought maybe you were doin’ it to me for the same reasons. But never mind. I’ll shut up about Daniel. Truce?”
You glare up at him, book still open in your lap. He extends an uncharacteristically helping hand, and you wait a truly uncomfortable amount of time before taking it and shaking once.
“Truce.”
He takes the chair beside you, stretched out in the sun. Unfortunately, it seems like your reading time is over as his head turns to you, “So, Dudley showed up yet?”
“He’s coming for lunch.” You cling to your novel, trying desperately to ignore Jake and his instantly broken promise, “What about Melon girl, they weren’t ripe enough for you?”
“She wasn’t my type.” He starts, and there’s a heavy silence before he continues, “I don’t like a woman who thinks it’s fun to get between a couple.”
The sideways glance you send Hangman, the ‘I-told-you-so’ smirk, is lethal.
“Anyways.” He continues, tone more casual now, “Fancy a swim, darlin’?”
“I’ll read instead,” You offer, “But you have fun, Hangman.”
“Party Pooper,” He accuses, standing from the lounge chair he’s occupying and stretching briefly, “You’re an absolute mood-killer. No fun, the most boring person on this boat.”
“I’m about to be more of one: have you put sunscreen on?”
“Nope,” He grins, “You volunteering to do the honors, you sleazy thing?”
“Absolutely not. But you can use the stuff in my bag.” You nod at your tote bag, “Don’t use it all, though.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Jake nods, folding into a seat on the edge of the lounge chair beside yours, “So, what’s going on in that book, they boning yet?”
“Mhm.” You nod absently as Jake begins smearing sunscreen over his arms and legs, “Real sexy stuff.”
“I’ve got somethin’ sexier for you.”
“It’s a porn book, Hangman,” You clarify, in case he’s forgotten, “I’m trying to read porn. Leave me alone.”
“There’s porn right here!” He calls, arms out to show off his impressively tanned and toned chest, a thick layer of sunscreen giving it a sheen that glistens in the light. As reluctant as you are to admire anything about Jake, you can’t lie; he has a body worth ogling. But you will not ogle it.
“This porn’s better,” You hum, glancing up at Jake through your lashes, deceptively inviting, “This guy’s got a cowboy hat on.”
“I’ve got a million and one cowboy hats,” Jake insists, slowly inching towards you and away from the edge of the pool, “Is that really all it takes, darlin’? ‘Cause I can slap one on in seconds, if that’s what you’re after. ‘Even brought one with me in case my roommate was into it.”
“Mm, maybe,” You let him get closer, excitement clearly swirling in his eyes as he advances towards your chair. He doesn’t notice the shifting of your feet until it’s too late and one is shoving firmly against his chest, knocking him off balance and sending him tumbling backwards into the pool.
There’s not anyone in his immediate vicinity besides you, so you take the brunt of the splash, but it’s worth it.
“But I like it better when the hat’s on a real gentleman!” You call, laughter interrupting your words as Jake emerges from the pool well and truly soaked, shaking water out of his hair. He’s been thoroughly underwater trained, so he’d been able to catch his breath in time despite the surprise of it all, and there’s no real harm done besides the initial splash.
“You dirty rotten minx,” He calls, water dripping from his short hair into his eyes, “You lured me in with the promise of cowboy hat sex just to push me in the pool?”
“I can’t believe you fell for it!” You’re still laughing, but maybe this bout of giggles is only to annoy him, “That’s, like, the oldest trick in the book. Well, maybe besides the cowboy hat sex thing. But you shouldn’t have gotten so close!”
He braces his elbows on the wall of the pool, the border surely burning his skin. But he stares at you regardless, “I thought you were finally givin’ in.”
“It’d take a lot more than a cowboy hat to make me give in, Jake.” You laugh, turning back to your book, “Like, a full personality transplant.”
Jake hears Danica’s words repeated back to him in his head, ‘Show, don’t tell’.
“Noted. I’ll look into one’uh those,” He quips, smile sarcastic and empty as he resorts to swimming alone, “Hey, when you’re done with that chapter, you should join me.”
“No.”
“Alright.”
You glance away from the book’s pages at Hangman’s unusual, immediate acceptance of your refusal. But he lifts himself out of the water- no stairs, no ladder, only his forearms against the deck, and your stomach sinks as you realize he might be playing a game of wills with you.
Instead, he sits beside you again, this time facing away from you, “Will you rub some sunscreen on my back?”
You want to say no. You would, if he were only asking to feel your hands on him. And maybe that’s part of it, but you also know that as much as he tans, he could burn, and his back is the only part of himself that he can’t reach. You’d want someone to do you the solid too, so you sigh and set your book aside.
“Fine. But you owe me.”
“Mhm.” He nods, passing you the sunscreen, “I’ll rub it wherever you want, Y/N.”
You whack him upside the head with the bottle, and when he hisses in pain and pitches forwards, you squirt some of the lotion onto your palm and begin applying it to the broad, tanned, muscled expanse of his back.
You’re no masseuse, but apparently you’re rubbing all the right places, because Jake lets out grunts and groans that are borderline pornographic. If they were coming from anyone else, you might have squirmed in your seat, but each one sends your eyes rolling skywards as you cover Jake’s skin in goopy sun lotion.
“Damn, you’re good.” Jake grunts as you dig into a knot beneath his shoulder blade, “Do that again?”
“I’m putting sunscreen on you, Jake, not working out muscle tension.”
“Oh, come on, just a little more?” He pleads, turning so that he can glance at you from the side of his gaze, eyes shining in prayer.
You dig extra hard into his muscle, and you take some sort of wicked pleasure in the way that his resulting groan is more of a pained yelp than something of enjoyment. 
“There, Hangman.” You whack the middle of his back, between his shoulder blades, “You’re all oiled up.”
“Aren’t you glad you were the one to get to do it?” Jake grins blindingly, and you bury your nose in your book again to avoid answering his question.
“Oh, you can stick your face in that book all you want,” Jake drawls, and you hear the displacement of the water he steps in as he lowers himself into the pool, gracefully and by choice this time, “But I know you liked having your hands all over me, darlin’.”
You want to gripe something back- something witty and cutting that will tear him down where he stands, but he’s turned away from you, already submerging himself to begin swimming laps. You admire his dedication to exercise even while on vacation- you have no plans to visit the gym in the lower decks.
Jake sees the diving board just as you do, and you keep him in your peripheral vision as he climbs out of the pool to make his way up the ladder. Your novel is begging to be read, but your eyes stick firm on one fitting word- ‘abdomen’ so that you can watch Jake from the corner of your eye as he prepares to dive.
Fortunately, you don’t need to continue the ruse of reading because Jake bellows from across the deck, “Y/N, look!”
You’re met with a grin when you look up at him, his arms raised above his head and joined flush together in diving position, “I’m gonna dive- watch me.”
“I’m watching.” You call, injecting your voice with as much disinterest as you can manage without feeling guilty, “This feels like babysitting, Hangman.”
He dives instead of quipping back, and it’s an impressive one, not that you’ll sing his praises for it. He comes up on the side of the pool closest to you, arms flinging an arc of water onto the concrete before you.
“Was it good?” He asks, panting slightly, hanging onto the wall.
“Yes,” You reply, a sickly sweet smile on your face as you condescend to him, “You did so good, honey.”
“Shut up,” He sends a wave of water splashing over your sandals, and you can’t be mad at him after all the teasing you’ve been inflicting upon him.
“I’ve been workin’ on my diving,” He goes back to swimming around, this time more casual as he keeps his head above the water to speak with you, “My nieces back home are learnin’ to swim so I’ve been in the pool a lot lately. Anytime they drag me in there I dive in and splash them.”
His arms cut through the water with strength and ease, confident strokes as you mull over his words. The image of Jake urging a toddler in floaties to cross a 3-foot gap into his arms is- endearing, not that you’ll admit it. You hum in acknowledgement, and tuck back into your book.
There’s not many people in the pool this early- most are probably still in bed with a hangover and a mess to clean up - and it’s large to boot, so there’s plenty of room. Your eyes drift left and catch sight of a jacuzzi, and suddenly your beach chair seems to pale in comparison.
Okay, you won’t join Jake in the pool, but you’ll relax for a couple of minutes in the jacuzzi. Just until Daniel gets here.
Jake doesn’t notice that you’ve stood until your chair is empty, and you have a perfect view of him floundering, scanning the entire deck until he spots you half-submerged in the hot tub.
You get to laugh at him again, and he grants you a good-natured grin instead of getting annoyed.
“I thought you’d finally found what’s-his-name,” Jake swims over to the separation wall that keeps the hot water parted from the cold, “Mind if I join you, Y/N?”
“Only if you’re- careful!” You shriek, trying desperately to protect the pages of your book from his sopping wet skin as he scales the barrier, “Hangman, if this book gets wet, you’re replacing it for me.”
“Alright, alright! I’ll take you on a shopping spree, relax. Hey, if I’m buyin’ you porn books, doesn’t that make me somethin’ like a sugar daddy?”
“You’re not getting any sugar,” You shrug, “But sure.”
“Just call me daddy, Y/N.” He grins, “That’s all the sugar I need.”
You hide behind your book so that he can’t see the way your face wrinkles into a grimace. The heat from the jacuzzi spreads inexplicably quick all of a sudden, warming your neck, your ears, your face, and Jake lets out a thick, heavy groan as he settles into the warm water.
“This is nice.” He muses, eyes closed, “Real relaxing.”
“It’s less relaxing when someone’s talking the whole time,” You peek across the side of your book, “Shut up, maybe?”
Jake snorts, leaning his head back against the edge of the pool, “Alright, alright your majesty. I’ll stay silent.”
You don’t verbally thank him, but you don’t make a scene when his leg drifts across the jet currents of the jacuzzi to brush against yours.
You cover a good chunk of your novel before a voice calls your name, and this time it’s the two people you’d been hoping to see all morning. Danica waves giddily at you and Jake, who’s picked his head up from where you thought he’d fallen asleep and is already mad-dogging Daniel. You wave back to Danica, and cast a quick glance down at your bathing suit before standing to greet Daniel. It’s just as tight and showy as you prefer it to be. 
You pay no attention to Jake where he gets out behind you, too focused on Daniel to care. But perhaps you should have, because you’re two steps from meeting Daniel in the middle when Jake’s strong arm shoves you sideways, and your book is wrenched from your grasp as you fall sideways into the pool.
It’s cold, colder even because you’d been soaking in the hot tub. You’re surprised, but you suppose you can’t even really be mad at him considering it’s just payback for what he’d done to you.
You’ve barely righted yourself in the water before there’s another splash beside you, and when you finally emerge there’s hands reaching for your waist, Daniel’s as you realize he’d jumped in to help you. 
“You-!” You splutter at Jake with bleary, chlorine-soaked eyes, attention split between Daniel who’s trying to ensure you’re alright, and Jake who’s snickering while holding your book in his thankfully dry hand.
“You asshole.” Daniel finishes for you, “She could have drowned!”
“I know how to swim,” You brace a hand on Daniel’s chest- startlingly bare, but riddled with coarse, brown hair, “It’s fine, I- I pushed him in earlier.”
“Relax, Prince Charming. It’s just a bit of payback. And look,” Jake waves your novel in front of you, “Dry as a bone.”
“Well I am- uh, not.” You stand half-submerged in the pool, Daniel still holding onto your waist, “So, I guess I will go swimming.”
“Great. You can swim with us.” Daniel smiles, warm and inviting as he keeps his hands on you.
“Yeah, us.” Jake agrees, taking Danica’s towel and spreading it over a sunny lounge chair for her.
Jake helps lower Danica gently into the pool, holding her hand while she takes the stairs, before jumping in beside you so that you’re splashed by the wave he creates.
“You are an asshole,” You laugh, breaking away from Daniel’s grip to shove at Jake’s shoulder. The grins on your faces are bright and genuine, perhaps the first time you’ve both been able to laugh with each other the entire trip. It feels nice, and you don’t fight when he shoves back at you with strong arms.
“Hey- hey!” Danica shouts, standing behind Daniel with a hand on his shoulder, “Why don’t you turn that pushing and shoving into a game of chicken?”
“I’m down,” Daniel seems thrilled to be opposite Jake as he lowers himself for Danica to climb atop his shoulders, “Y/N, you okay on his shoulders?”
Jake does the honors himself, dunking himself under the water and coming up between your legs. You barely have time to plant your hands on the top of his head, fingers twisting instinctively into his hair as you accidentally tug it while he stands at his full height again.
“Shit, sorry Hangman.” You let go of his hair, hoping you hadn’t yanked too hard. He’s forgiven, for now, so you won’t resort to childish things like hair-pulling.
“That’s okay, darlin’.” He grins, craning his neck back to meet your eye, “I like it when you tug on my hair.”
You have to overlook Jake’s suggestive comment as Danica’s already reaching for you, and you eagerly engage in a shoving match while the two men beneath you plant themselves into the bottom of the pool. You manage to get a leg up on Danica, and they’re both pushed backwards by the force of your shove, but Daniel surges forwards and ends up knocking you and his roommate right into each other.
You collapse against Danica, forehead-to-forehead, giggling like little girls. Her eyes are bright and shining with amusement, and her breath smells minty- like gum, not toothpaste. You’re more than happy to begin pushing at each other again, and though you’re confident your navy-built muscles are going to prevail, she lands a critical shove against your shoulder that throws you off-balance and sends you toppling off of Jake’s shoulders.
The water is cold, colder than you remember as you splash into it, and when you come up for air, already laughing, Jake’s facing you, having turned when you’d fallen from his shoulders. He’s grinning too, a hand already outstretched to help you up, but upon seeing you stand his eyes widen and his face drops.
“Shit.” He lunges for you, cutting through the water as his arm wraps around your back to yank you tight against his chest. You protest, grunting with exertion as you try fighting against his grip. But his muscles are impressive, and you’re trapped against his chest despite your best efforts.
“Would you cut it out? I’m trying to help you. Your top came untied.”
“What?” You splutter, water trailing down your face as you quell your instinctive struggle against his crushing hold. You realize that the reason for the extreme cold had, in fact, been because your bikini top had abandoned ship, and you barely have time to process the feeling of your bare tits slammed up against Jake’s hard, toned chest before he’s fishing the bathing suit out of the water and feeding it around your waist.
“Up,” He instructs, lifting his eyes to the expansive blue sky above you so that you can separate yourself from his chest for long enough to cover your own again. It’s- a strange gesture of courtesy that you would have expected from Daniel, sure, but not Jake. Perhaps that’s why you’re so sluggish, why it takes you longer than expected to fit your top back over your tits and grapple with the strings.
“You decent?” Jake asks, and when you grunt in confirmation he drops his eyes again. He notices you struggling with the ties and reaches for them himself, gently swatting your fingers away as he uses his advantage of sight. It presses his muscular shoulder up against your face, and you turn so that your cheek rests against it instead of your nose. Suddenly you’re held against his chest like a slow dance, and something terribly and inexplicably squirmy happens in your stomach.
“Done. I double knotted it.” He hums, and it’s such a sincere tone, one that’s completely vacant of all his usual dickishness, that you lose yourself staring at his face when he pulls away. You begin examining it for any sign that perhaps he was murdered and replaced with a poorly-trained doppelganger.
His hair looks right, albeit sopping wet. His eyebrows are growing slightly bushier than usual, but nothing you’d consider a complete and total imposter. His nose is still the same: strong, slightly downturned (though not as far as Rooster’s), and there’s a tiny patch of sunscreen that hasn’t been rubbed in near his right eye. His mouth is set in a determined purse as he double knots the strings of your bikini top together, and his eyes- his eyes are different.
Miles different than you’ve ever seen them. The outside edge of his hazel-green rings is softened, like someone has blurred their usual sharp border and lined it with suede. His pupils are huge, and they’d be eclipsing his irises if those weren’t so big and puppy-like. He is, in every sense of the word, gentle, inside and out. 
Jake has never been gentle before. 
“You alright?” He asks, and you snap back to reality with his large hands spread over the expanse of your bare back, the eyes that you’d been examining firmly and concernedly fixed upon you. Only a few meager strings separate his skin from yours, and you nod once, steadily as you gently push his arms off of you.
“Let’s go again,” You call to Danica and Daniel, your voice a piss-poor attempt at strength and nonchalance as it lacks its usual life, “Good hit, Danica. But watch out, I’m gonna kick your ass.”
“Bring it,” She grins gleefully, and her giddy gaze drifts downwards to Jake’s face when he lifts you onto his shoulders yet again. From the looks of it they share some sort of silent conversation- some inside joke that you’re not privy to. 
Something about that, something about her excluding you from a conversation with your own teammate makes you shove her, not enough to knock her off of Daniel’s shoulders, but enough to show her that you’re not going easy on her. She shrieks giddily as she writhes to stay balanced on Daniel’s shoulders, a smidge less broad than Jake’s. You’re thankful for that, for the steady mount you’ve got, as you resume pushing and shoving at Danica.
Jake is going insane. Not only does the phantom sensation of your bare tits- nipples hard from the chilly pool water - stick to him like a wet t-shirt, he can feel you against the back of his neck, your warm sex nestled snugly against him with only the bottom half of your bikini to separate you. Your thighs bracket his head, close enough for him to reach out and bite at, but he has to focus on keeping his stance sturdy so that you can play properly. Daniel’s glaring viciously at him across the few feet that separates the four of you, and he’s not going to let Mr. Mailman win. 
This time, Jake suspects you’ve used that military muscle of yours, because Danica slips backwards off of Daniel’s dewy shoulders and splashes into the pool. Your hand cups beneath Jake’s chin, tilting his head upwards and leaning it back into your lap.
“Nice one,” He grins upside-down at you, and you bump your fist against his when he offers it. Then you’re craning your neck down, surely uncomfortable as you leave mere inches between your lips and his, and his ears are ringing.
“Back up,” You murmur, disguising it as a congratulatory speech while Daniel helps Danica back onto his shoulders, “Get them to chase us and we’ll use the momentum against them.”
“Darlin’,” Jake proclaims, pride puffing up his chest that your legs are resting against, “You’re my kinda woman. Always looking to win.”
“Just do it, Hangman,” You scoff, but your eye-roll is less than irritated, fond if anything due to your partnership as Jake drops his head to face Daniel and Danica once more.
Jake stands in place where he’d been before, but when Danica engages with you he begins backing up. Slowly, carefully, ensuring that his feet are planted steadily each step so that you’re not tipped over, he makes his way towards the drop off towards the deeper end of the water. Daniel follows, taking the bait, and soon enough his predicament becomes obvious: he’s not as tall as Jake.
He stands somewhere close to six feet, surely, but not past it like Jake does. Your partner’s head is still comfortably above water, smirk in full force as Daniel’s beard becomes waterlogged. 
“That’s not fair!” Danica laughs, petting sympathetically at Daniel’s sopping wet hair, “Poor guy, we’ll get you stilts for the next round.”
Daniel lands a teasing pinch against the curve of her ass and she shrieks. You lunge for her, using her momentary shock to catch her off guard as you send her tumbling backwards into the water behind Daniel. 
You don’t have time to celebrate before Jake is ducking down and slipping himself out from beneath you, his strong arms bracing your fall so that you barely sink a few feet into the water. He crushes you in a celebratory hug, his laughter harmonizing with your own. He turns you both to face Daniel and Danica as they splutter to catch their breath, his cheek pressed flush against your own. 
“Chicken Champions,” He declares, holding you tight to his side at his own height, which means your feet float above his own in the water, “I’d offer to go again, but that’d just be cruel. You ladies wanna chatter in the hot tub while Danny-Boy and I show off on the diving board?”
“I brought a book,” Danica hums, face dripping with water you feel only mildly guilty for submerging her in, “If you wanna read, Y/N, I’ll do it with you.”
“Perfect.” Daniel nods, already cutting through the water on his way to the diving board, “I’ll be careful not to splash you guys.”
“I won’t.” Jake supplies helpfully, his grin turned shit-eating as he eyes you up, “No point in reading one of them smutty porn books if you’re not soaking wet.”
“Splash me and I’ll throw your room key off the side of the boat, Hangman,” You promise, “You’ll be begging strangers to take pity on you in the elevator.”
“Nah, that’s not my style,” Jake’s voice is dripping with intent while Daniel takes position on the diving board, his swim trunks dripping steady trails of water. You don’t know why until he continues, taking his own bait, “I’ll leave that to Daniel.”
You blame Jake’s comment for why Daniel’s dive nearly turns into a belly flop. It’s instantaneous, really, Daniel’s changing of posture as he register’s Jake’s biting words, and you have half a mind to admonish Jake for riling Daniel up during a dive- that could have ended badly. As it stands, Daniel does a sort of cannonball, though not intentionally, and you and Danica cringe in unison when he lands, sending water splashing well over the divider into the hot tub. Your book remains mostly unscathed- only a droplet of water lands on the cover and obscures the male lead’s face, blurring out his beard and making him appear clean-shaven. 
Jake is already scaling the ladder, and when he gets to the top he surveys Daniel emerging from the water.
“Six,” He shrugs, sneering down at Daniel from the highest point on the deck, “‘Could’ve clinched a seven if you hadn’t splashed the ladies, but your form was still shit.”
He doesn’t give Daniel a chance to fire back- or maybe the man is just too smart to take Jake’s bait - before he sets his arms together above his head, and seamlessly, impeccably cuts through the water. For someone so muscular and bulky, his form is graceful- not that you’ll ever tell him that. Water arcs outwards from where he’d landed, one half of the splash practically targeting Daniel where he stands watching.
He swims farther, nearly reaching the other end of the pool before he emerges, shaking water from his hair like a dog as he looks intently at you and Danica in the hot tub for a rating.
“Ten!” Your reading companion shouts, blessedly unaware of the tense atmosphere- or again, too intelligent to fall for Jake’s lowly antics- and you look at the water-stained cover of your novel.
You smear away the water droplet with your dry thumb, and the male main character’s beard returns.
“Four.” You call, voice deadpan as you lock your eyes on your novel, “For playing dirty and sabotaging the other contestants.”
Hangman’s grin is open-mouthed and cemented into place as he stands taller than Daniel in the water, tanned skin standing starkly out from the blue of the chlorinated water, “Dirty’s the best way to play, darlin’.”
Danica shoots you a look from behind the spread of her novel that you’ve sent many-a-girlfriend before. It’s the wide-eyed, restrained smile that screams ‘We’re talking about this later’, and you mirror her expression with your own disdain.
“Leave us alone,” You call, grinning apologetically at Daniel so that he knows he’s only a bystander, “We want to read.”
“Let’s leave the ladies to their smut, Dorian.” Jake calls, louder than he needs to be as he stretches to display his toned abdomen and muscled arms, “We can find our own fun. Wanna see who can swim the fastest? Place your bets, ladies: pilot or mailman?”
“You swam pretty slow when you crash-landed in the Pacific that one time,” You muse, fighting to keep a smirk off of your face, “I remember thinking you would die in the time it took for you to swim back to shore.”
“Wouldn’t’ve gone so slow if I wasn’t hauling my RIO back to shore. He hit his head on the way down,” Jake dips his head towards Danica, happily regaling her with the tale,  and you realize you’ve only fluffed his ego more, “So he was unconscious. Well I couldn’t just leave him there, ‘poor guy was only a trainee. So I took him along. It did slow me down, but,” He heaves a disgusting, gaudy, fake sigh, “It was worth it to send him back home to his mama.”
You taste a hint of blood where you’ve apparently chewed through your lip. You let it go and hope nothing escapes your mouth. It would be a shame to stain the pages of your novel red.
You’re trying very hard not to pay attention to Jake and Danica where he’s engaged her in a staring contest. Well, you suppose it’s not much of a contest that she can win: the point is that you’re losing. Jake’s showing off his impressive build, still running his mouth with every vaguely self-complementary anecdote he can embellish, and Danica is taking the bait, which means that your rampant attempts to cool Jake’s ego have failed. 
You let the warm, borderline-hot water sink into your skin and simmer alongside the building irritation that threatens to blow beneath the surface. You’re tired. This was supposed to be a relaxing vacation for you- or, if not relaxing, a good way to blow off steam. You were supposed to be bent in half up against the shower wall by now, not bending the pages of your book with the strong grip you’ve cemented onto them while you mediate Jake’s ego and the willingness of so many women to accommodate it. 
Part of you wants to let loose and have fun- not with Jake, of course. Never with Jake. But part of you wants to act rationally, forget the constant rivalry between you two and let him shack up with whoever will show him her tits first. But the other part of you, the one that cheers every time he places second in a show of skill, wants to knock him down a peg. It’s why you’re so persistently humbling him- or, trying to, at least. Something about him putting on this cocky persona- erasing all human emotion to make way for pure sleaze puts you on edge, and you pity the fool who believes it.
You can’t tell if Danica’s that fool yet, because she’s turned back to her book with a smile, but to her credit she doesn’t ogle him while he’s swimming. It would be easy to- he’s all tanned muscle and gestures that show off just the right curve or vein. He knows how to preen, but Danica seems to be minding her own business. That makes it easier for you to read your own novel; you don’t feel like you have to keep an eye out for her anymore.
You’re not sure whether it’s a love for the act or a wordless competition to outswim the other that keeps Jake and Daniel occupied with lapping the pool for so long, but as more and more people filter out of their rooms and onto the deck, there’s not much room for recreation anymore.
“Are you done?” You ask Danica, peering over at her after someone unknowingly sends a wave of water straight for you both, narrowly avoiding soaking your novels.
“I think I’m done.” She nods sheepishly, rushing to stand and keep her book dry, “Should we run away before the men notice we’re leaving?”
“Excellent plan,” You laugh, but you can practically feel Jake’s eagle eye upon you as you race for your towel, leaving soaked footprints behind on the wooden deck, “We should go get some pizza. They’re making more now that it’s a little busier out here.”
“You shouldn’t stare like that.” Daniel’s irritatingly smooth voice, pitched up slightly from Jake’s and entirely free of Jake’s rugged charm, makes Jake’s lips yearn to curl into a sneer.
Jake pivots in the cold pool water to face Daniel rather unimpressed, a scoff begging to burst from his lips, “Like what?”
“Like she’s a piece of meat, or something.” Daniel’s arms are crossed, and Jake plants his feet firmly against the concrete floor of the pool.
“Oh, you’re so virtuous,” Jake drawls, his skin burning and not from the rays of sun hitting it directly, “You frenched her in an elevator, Daniel, you’ve got no room to be talking to me about class.”
“She wanted me to kiss her. She kissed me.” Daniel insists, and Jake laughs- actually laughs, a grit of his teeth and a forceful exhalation of air, “That’s different than staring at her ass while she runs away from you like you’d flip her skirt up at a drive-in movie theater.”
“Flipping skirts,” Jake laughs, sadistic grin in full force, “Daniel, I’m not that old fashioned! Please, she’s in a bathing suit that she chose, for a sex cruise that she booked, and you know what? She probably wants you to be staring at her ass in it. And you don’t seem too concerned with the other people on the deck, I’m sure a few of them are looking too. And are you worried I’m looking at Danica’s ass?”
“You’re not looking at Danica’s ass.” Daniel nearly bites his tongue in an effort to keep his voice level, “Because you’re not interested in Danica. You’re interested in Y/N and you can’t have her. She’s not yours.”
“She’s not yours, either.” Jake spits, and there’s a moment of silence where both men’s chests heave with barely-suppressed tension. Jake realizes that he’s admitted to Daniel that he has no real claim over you, but the other man doesn’t fight back against not having one of his own. But you are his, you are Jake’s, in the way you’d fallen asleep in his arms last night, in the look in your eyes when you’d stared into his own earlier, in the stain on his pajama pants.
You’d moaned his name- his name, not Daniel’s.
Someone knocks into Daniel from behind, backing right into him and nudging him slightly off balance.
“Oh!” The woman shrieks, “I’m sorry! I wasn’t paying attention.”
“It’s fine.” He offers her a tight smile, heading for the ladder, “Don’t worry about it.”
Jake hauls himself up out of the pool with nothing but his forearms, using his towel to dry his hair if only to show off the expanse of his chest to any who may be watching. He checks- you’re not.
“So,” Danica leans forwards into your space at the pizza counter, eyes meaningfully wide, “Tell me why he’s acting like this.”
“He always acts like this.” You scoff, and when she levels you with an unimpressed glare, you insist, “No, really! He’s just- everything is a competition to him, everything. I met his mom once, and she told me that he used to have races at the dinner table to see who could finish their food first. He kept making himself sick but as long as he’d beat his brothers he didn’t care. He always has to win, and right now, he’s competing for us.”
“No, he’s competing for you.” Danica corrects you, “Is he winning?”
“Hell no. He’s- he’s not really competing for me, not meaningfully. He just wants to say he ‘got me’, you know? That would be major bragging rights on the tarmac. But that’s exactly why I can’t give in- I can’t be known as the woman who slept with her fellow pilot! Then they wouldn’t see my achievements anymore, just my mistakes.”
“I get that.” She nods, “But how do you know he’s just gonna dump you?”
“I’ve watched him dump the whole of San Diego,” You scoff, “That’s what he does. He doesn’t do love, he’s the kind of guy who’s only ever interested in something quick and dirty.”
“Everyone does love.” Danica frowns, “Some people just start later in life than others. And I think he’s starting now. With you.”
“Love,” You laugh, and sure, it’s dramatic, but if it gets through to her, you don’t care, “A man who loves me would not have tormented me for my entire career.”
She tilts her head thoughtfully, “I think he does. Even if he doesn't act the way you think he should, even if he doesn't act the way you would, I think he does love you. I think he just loves differently. I think he's new to it. What has he done to torment you?”
You huff, grateful for the opportunity to vent, “He constantly tries one-upping me- again, he can’t lose. He just- he pokes and prods and teases me like we’re on the playground or something, and it’s non-stop. It’s not like he’s sweet most of the time and then there’s a few bouts of light teasing, it’s- it’s constant, and I can’t ever let my guard down, or I’ll lose.”
“So you’re fighting to win, too.” Her eyes narrow slightly, “Why?”
“Because. I can't be second-best, and I can’t be known as the woman who slept with her coworker. I’m not doing that.” You repeat.
“Oh," She laughs, "So you're both stubborn. You don't want to lose, either. But second-best is temporary, rankings come and go. And I understand your thing about not wanting to be known for sleeping with him, but even if you did sleep with him, the whole Navy doesn’t have to know.”
“They will, Hangman will brag. He always brags.”
“He won’t- not if he’s in love with you, not if you want him to keep it private.”
“He’s not in love with me-!”
“Four slices of Pepperoni, two cheese?” A large tray is placed between you and Danica at the counter you’re both leaning against, and it snaps the two of you out of your debate.
You turn to see one of the employees looking expectantly at you, and Danica stammers, “Uh, three cheese.”
“Sorry.” He smiles placatingly at her, scooping another slice onto the plate, “Three cheese.”
“Thank you.” You take the pepperoni pizza, leaving Danica to collect the cheese. You feel bad for walking away, even if you know she’s hot on your trail, but you feel frustratingly suffocated, like everyone is urging you to make the biggest mistake of your life and never considering why you simply can’t. She doesn’t know Jake, she hasn’t spent the last decade with him as he’s blown his way through tourist after tourist, bragging all the while. And he doesn’t understand what it would be like- even if he wasn’t looking to win, even if he did just want to try casual sex for fun, you’d never be able to escape that reputation. 
You feel like you’re going crazy, and you plop down between Jake and Daniel where they sit at opposite sides of a table, ready to stuff your face with pizza instead of dealing with any of it.
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girlatmirror · 1 day ago
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bend my rules | jjk
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in which jeongguk jeon, the frattiest of all frat boys, has been trying to get you to go out with him since freshman year, no success. what if the events that occur in junior year change your opinion on jeongguk and you actually give him a chance?
rich! jeongguk x reader
warnings: detailed virginity loss (minors, go away!), use of yn, jk is a little dumb sometimes but he’s a sweetheart, jk is a frat boy, minor mention of SA (nothing too triggering (i hope)), i love yn, taehyung mention 🫶🏼, yn is thick asfff (#needthat), desperate jk, use of both jeongguk and jungkook (i’m an indecisive bitch sorry), he gets the girl!
——-
Jeongguk needs no introduction. There was not a single soul at Berkeley University that didn’t know of him. Even the freshmen got introduced to who he was on their first day. With a powerful presence, daddy’s money, and unfortunately for you, a gorgeous, gorgeous face and muscles for days, Jeongguk takes the entire world by storm. He had that something about him that makes every guy want to befriend him and makes every girl want to be with him.
He was a business administration major, now in his senior year; his goal? To take over his father’s many businesses when he graduates. He could have done that without college, but his family put a lot of importance on education.
He was simultaneously in a frat and also lived alone in a penthouse off campus. You always wondered how he was allowed to be in the frat if he wasn’t living in the fraternity itself. But he’s the king of Kappa Sigma; they couldn’t vote him out. You met Jungkook at a party thrown by a friend’s friend, who is also friends with Jungkook, during the second semester of freshman year. He approached you with charming confidence, asking for your number. You declined politely, and he has not left you alone since—following you around, asking you out, giving you gifts, inviting you to parties that you never ended up attending, asking your friends about you, pretending to share your interests to get closer to you, and so on and so forth.
The one thing that was good about freshman and sophomore year was that you had no classes with Jungkook. So the last two years, you had Jungkook-less classes, except for the ones he decided to barge into uninvited and declare his love for you. Junior year came, and with it, Jungkook decided to sign himself up for the 18th-century literature class with Professor Sullivan.
Your major was English literature.
Professor Sullivan’s class was one of your favorites—the debates, the topics, the atmosphere. Also, the fact that Professor Sullivan liked you a lot. The topic of this lesson was: the role of women in literature in the 18th century.
"Women in the 18th century played very crucial roles as empowered figures; that is a fact. Authors like Mary Wollstonecraft, for example; she challenged societal expectations and wrote incredibly critical narratives that advocated for women’s rights,” you argued with a steady voice.
From across from you, you heard a voice you dreaded. "Yn, no one can argue with you about the existence of women authors at the time, but were they really all that empowering? I mean, they pretty much all were dependent on men. For example, ‘Oroonoko,’ written by a woman, yet it represents a male hero, while the female perspective is secondary.”
“Well, Ben, if you had taken my argument or really, any historical context into consideration, you would understand that, male hero aside, a woman producing literature of any kind in that era meant that she was asserting herself in a male-dominant, or rather, in a female-submissive world, and that in itself is resistance. It embodies power. I rest my case."
Ben was about to open his mouth to argue back when the door to the lecture hall interrupted him.
"Mr. Jeon, you are half an hour late," Professor Sullivan spoke to the interrupter.
In that moment, Ben became the least of your worries, sexism and all. You felt as if your life was upside down and you couldn’t get it up. What the hell was he doing in this class? This isn’t even his thing; he will fail! He will fail miserably!
"I sincerely apologize, Professor. It won’t happen again," the deep voice apologized before stepping forward and finding a seat.
As his piercing brown eyes found yours, the usual smirk found its place on his lips, and them and their owner made their way directly towards you. He sat down with the same expression on his face. "Hey, gorgeous. Miss me over the summer?"
He put his muscular arm around your shoulder and kept his head tilted to the side to stare at you, admiring the beauty before him from head to toe. You were wearing flared jeans and a tight pink long-sleeve shirt that accentuated your generous breasts. "Cute outfit, baby. Pink is your color; I’ll make sure to buy you lingerie in that same shade."
Before you could answer, Mr. Sullivan stated: "Mr. Jeon, we were just discussing the woman’s role in 18th-century literature. I am sure Ms. Ln will fill you in on what you have missed so far, but I wish for you to pay attention to the rest of the lecture. I know Ms. Ln is much prettier than I am; nonetheless, I hope you can find it in yourself to pay more attention to me and less to her."
The whole hall broke out in laughter, amused at the professor’s wit. Jungkook just continued smirking at you, seemingly also amused at the professor, and you sat in silence for the rest of the lecture, blushing.
The lecture ended quickly after, all the students making their way out, and you would’ve done so as well, but you needed to have a little talk with the man sitting beside you first.
"What are you doing here?" you nearly hissed at Jungkook, who was still sitting, your arms crossed around your chest.
"What do you mean, baby?" he provoked. "You don’t want me here or something?"
One thing that can be said about Jungkook was that he was a very persistent man. Even after your countless rejections, he somehow managed to come back stronger, bigger, and harder to fight off.
"You know I don’t want you here! What are you even doing here in the first place, Jungkook? What do you want?" Your hands were on your full hips as you questioned him.
He looked up at you with a shimmer of amusement and a raised eyebrow, his eyes tracing every curve. "You know, Yn, you look really good from this angle."
The thought of kicking him in the head came to you, but you fought it off. "Answer my question."
"I’m not gonna answer a question you already know the answer to. You know damn well why I’m here; I want you, and I wanna see you, and I want you to finally go out with me so we can live happily ever after and put me out of my misery," he proclaimed, with the spirit of Romeo possessing him.
"You just did, though," you noted with a smirk.
"Huh?"
"You just answered a question I already know the answer to." With that, you grabbed your bag and swayed away from the man, who was too distracted watching you walk away to comprehend that you were gone.
___
On a Friday night, you had a lot you could do: read a new book, talk to your mom, whom you hadn’t seen in two months on the phone, organize a sleepover with your friends and watch a movie, finish the five essays you haven’t finished yet, go off campus and try new food, and if you don’t like it, get the food you know and like and eat it.
But in Avery’s opinion, there was nothing better to do than to go to the Kappa Sigma party. You would usually not necessarily disagree; a party is sometimes exactly what you needed, but not this Friday and not at Kappa Sigma.
"Avery, did you forget the 100 times that I have told you he is now in my 18th-century lit class? I had to see him three times this week for almost an hour each lecture. Those are three hours where I had to see him, where I had to hear him speak," you dramatically articulated. "And if you count the times that I have seen him in the halls, and the one time I saw him in the library, and the one time he came into my poetry class and sat there, watching me for 20 minutes before Professor Sinclair told him to leave, and the one time he came here to give me flowers and ask me out, that makes like a hundred thousand hours that I had to see him this week. I do not wanna go to his party!"
Your roommates all looked at you like you just fell down from an alien spaceship. Nora was the first one to react. "Your math skills are really bad, Yn."
Avery rolled her eyes. "True, but that’s besides the point; Yn, why are you whining that the hottest and richest guy at this entire university wants you and has been wanting you for the last two years? That’s a flex, girl! Now, go put on a sexy ass outfit on that sexy ass bod and let’s. go. out."
"Woooo!" you heard Sasha yell from the kitchen, making you crack a smile amid your misery.
"Alright, but next Friday, I choose what we do," you claimed, with full intention of keeping that promise.
_
You and all four of your roommates arrived at the Kappa Sigma house with outfits that nobody else could compete with. You were wearing a tight, black off-shoulder shirt and a red mini skirt that emphasized your already emphasized thickness. Topped off with soft glam makeup and black heels, you felt like a real woman.
"Welcome, ladies," the deep voice that could only belong to Taehyung greeted you. "Sasha."
"Hi, Tae," Sasha purred, her hands quickly finding his neck, leaning into a passionate kiss.
These two had been a couple for a few months now, after a whole year of being on and off. Despite the stereotypes of frat boys, Taehyung knew how to treat his girl right.
You entered the house with one friend less; Sasha disappeared with Taehyung into the chaos that is the current state of this house. Your other roommates quickly disappeared as well, much to your dismay.
Now, your goal was to socialize, maybe drink a little something, but not too much because of the essays that you would have to write the next day. Your eyes scanned the house for a familiar face, and it landed on one.
One that was looking you up and down with hunger. He signaled you to come over where he was sitting with a bunch of girls and one other guy. You shook your head no, so he came over.
"Yn! I’m glad you came, baby." He hugged you, and you only half-hugged him back. "You look gorgeous, of course."
"Thanks, Jeongguk," you said politely.
You and he had a complex relationship; the first time he saw you, he showed romantic interest in you, showering you with affection and gifts. He never stopped. You always rejected him, no exceptions, even at times where you wanted nothing more than to say yes. Yet he was always kind to you, and you were kind to him (most of the time). Your mutual friends always brought you together; it was as if you couldn’t escape one another—to his pleasure and to your dismay.
"Lemme get you something to drink," he went into the kitchen and came back with a soda can. "Here, I know you usually don’t drink, so I got you a cola; hope that’s fine."
"It is, thank you," you smiled softly and started drinking the cola. "So, you’re interested in literature this year."
You only started a conversation because you knew he would not leave your side the entire night anyway, and you would prefer it if you picked the topic of conversation instead of him.
"Hell yeah, I love me some Samuel L. Jackson," he stated, making you laugh.
"You mean Samuel Johnson, you idiot," you said, giggling as you pushed his strong arm playfully.
He watched you giggle, gazing as if you hung the stars. "Yeah, yeah, same thing, same thing." With his boyish smile, he said, "Look, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable by signing up for the same class as you. It was kinda out of pocket, even for my standards. I know the last person you wanna see is me, so if you want me to drop it, I will."
Your jaw metaphorically dropped at Jungkook’s words. Those are words that came out of Jungkook’s mouth? Does that mean that he will leave me alone completely if I wish? What does this mean?
A strange emotion settled deep inside you; you started wondering if you had done something wrong or if he perhaps found another girl he wanted to ask out even more than he wanted to ask you out.
"Jungkook, it is your right to choose whatever class you want to be in; I can’t be mad at you for that. Besides, you will learn a lot from Professor Sullivan; he’s great," you reassured him with a sweet voice.
"Yeah?" He grinned, recognizing that this was your way of saying you did not want him to leave.
"Oh yeah, he is a delightful old man. The stories he has to share are amazing. Did you even know he’s married to Professor Martinez? The reason why she hasn’t taken his last name is that he was against it, telling her, ‘Maria, if you take my name, that is erasure. Erasure of your life before my appearance, and erasure of your beautiful Mexican heritage, Maria. Do not change your name to mine; I am technically your oppressor.’ He told us that story maybe about 23 times, and he made sure to roll the r real hard," you found yourself joking with Jungkook, as your mind took you back to Avery’s earlier words.
It was not the first time that your friends said the same words to you; they always expressed their envy and their confusion about the situation with Jungkook. But you were thinking much deeper than them.
Much to everybody’s surprise, you never had a boyfriend, and you were also still a virgin. The most you did was a kiss you shared with a guy at your high school graduation, which you immediately regretted. You had high standards. For yourself, for your future, for your future husband, and for everyone you allowed to enter your life. It was not about not having options; God knows you had many. It was about knowing for sure that the man you give these things to—your trust, your dignity, your virginity, your love—would be the right one, the one that deserved it. The idea that Jungkook—the man who gave you his undivided attention for two years straight and spoiled you without being asked—was perhaps the man for you didn’t sound so unbelievable anymore.
When you were a freshman and before you met him, you heard stories about him—stories of the parties he threw, the money he had, the many girls he fucked. These stories made you cautious, even though he put in real effort to get closer to you, you were hard to impress, and it was even harder for you to get out of your shell of self-protection.
Jungkook howled with laughter at the things you told him about your professor; either he found them genuinely amusing, or he was just laughing because the stories came out of your mouth.
“So, what will you do?” he asked once the laughter died down a bit.
You tilted your head innocently. “What do you mean?”
He looked at you with such tenderness, your innocent eyes captivating him.
“When we get married, will you keep your name, or will you take mine?” he posed the question so casually, yet so longingly.
You shrugged your shoulders elegantly, taking a small sip from your forgotten cola. “I will probably take yours.”
The words you said that Friday night made Jeon Jungkook the happiest man on planet Earth, and probably all the other planets in the universe.
_
“So, you little minx sat down and talked to Jungkook basically the entire fucking party, and you didn’t even get up once? You didn’t even complain about it!” Avery was almost lost for words; key word, almost.
“What’s the big deal? We talked, so what?” you shrugged it off.
“Everybody’s talking about it, you know. They think you might finally give the guy a chance,” Nora chimed in. “I always knew you would eventually cave; I mean, with those arms and that black card, I would’ve folded a long time ago. There’s a rumor he has a seven-inch dick, by the way.”
Just as you were about to say something, Sasha entered the living room, having just finished talking to Taehyung on the phone. “What are you girlies talking about?”
Avery answered, “Oh, just about Yn and Jungkook getting married and having six kids.”
You threw a pillow at her head in response, and Sasha smirked at the mention of her boyfriend’s buddy. “Yeah, I heard what happened. Tae told me Jungkook went crazy after talking to you, saying that this will be the year that he will claim you as his and that there’s not a single person that can take away the happiness that he’s experiencing at the moment. He literally can’t stop talking about you.”
You suppressed your smile successfully and shrugged your shoulders again. “I don’t see why it’s a big deal. I mean, you all left me lonely at that party, and he was the first familiar face I saw, sooo… I had nothing better to do.”
“God, you’re such an odd person. The guy wants you so bad, just give him a chance. You think it’s not noticeable that you are also kinda into him, but if you weren’t, you would’ve blocked that guy a long time ago, and you would’ve gone crazy on his ass with all the things he does to get your attention, but you don’t,” Tanya argued with a sly smirk on her face. “You may be mysterious to other people, but you can’t fool your best friends, who have been living with you for two years.”
Avery and Nora both agreed with Tanya’s words by nodding their heads crazily, and Sasha said a loud ‘true’ from the kitchen across the living room, where she was preparing five hot chocolates for you.
“I do go crazy; I always go crazy; I always tell him off. You all have personally experienced me going off on him for things he did and said,” you defended yourself the best you could, before taking the hot chocolate out of Sasha’s hands with a small ‘thank you, S.’
“Yeah, but it’s not really a ‘fuck off, I don’t ever wanna see you or hear you again’ type of ‘going off’; it’s more like a ‘ugh, Jungkook, I can’t believe you did this again. Please do it again’ type of thing,” Avery mocked with a high-pitched voice and fluttering eyelashes.
“Oh my God, I do not do that.”
“You kinda do, now that I think about it,” Sasha finally sat down. “I mean, I have seen you pick fights with men flirting with you before, and you are a completely different person with them versus with Jungkook.”
The others thought about what Sasha said, and it was almost like a collective epiphany. They all looked at you with the same look on their faces; almost an accusatory expression.
“You totally like him; oh my God! Yn likes Jungkook. It makes so much sense; I can’t believe I was so stupid,” Nora expressed with exciting energy.
You felt a rush of relief coming over you, almost as if you were carrying a secret that you wanted out. You had no idea if that feeling was a good sign or a bad one.
“Okay, let’s not get ahead of ourselves here, girls. I do not ‘totally like him’; I may be just starting—emphasis on just starting—to warm up to the idea of giving him a chance,” you revealed. “But Sasha, promise not to tell Taehyung about this, ‘cause if you do, Jungkook is gonna know by default, and I’m never gonna hear the end of it.”
“I won’t; I promise. This is just soooo exciting,” she spoke. “It’s just gonna be really hard to keep to myself, but I will try.”
“No, you won’t just try; you have to actually not say anything. You forget how indecisive I am; I could change my mind about this in an hour, so if you tell Taehyung, he will tell Jungkook, then Jungkook builds up hope and confronts me about what he heard, and I’ll just be like, ‘Oh, that was nothing; he’s just messing with you,’ and can you imagine how hurt his feelings would be? I really don’t need that on my conscience,” you explained thoroughly, your dramatics intact as they always were.
“Oh my God,” they all said in unison.
“What?”
“You care about his feelings!” Avery exclaimed, standing up dramatically. “You like him, like, like him. Admit it, admit it, please, please, please.”
“Shut up. I’m going to bed now. Buh-bye.” With that, you exited the living room, leaving your friends to talk about your situation for another hour before also going to bed.
“Remember when he got her a Cartier bracelet?”
___
“I will form six groups consisting of four students; each group discussing the topic I will be assigning them,” Professor Sullivan revealed.
“Ms. Ln, you will be grouped with Ms. Jones, Mr. Jeon, and Mr. Davis,” he spoke loudly. “You will be discussing Rousseau’s ‘The Confessions’ and prepare a presentation on identity and selfhood that is due next week, on Monday.”
You dreaded being in a group with Ben Davis, who had been nothing but a pain in your butt since you got to know him, but at least the assignment was the one that you wanted.
Jungkook, who sat next to you, smirked and nodded his head. “They couldn’t tear us apart if they tried, angel; this is meant to be.”
“Who are you even talking about? Who’s they?” Confused by his words, you asked.
“Just the world. You know how much these people hate real love,” he flashed you his trademark smile, making you push his arm playfully.
"Could you two stop flirting so we can start with the assignment?" the annoying voice of Ben whined, sitting across from you, with Lily Jones joining in the seat next to his.
“Alright, let’s dive in,” you started talking. “I personally think the most transfixing part of ‘The Confessions’ is how Rousseau emphasizes his intentions to be authentic. He exposes himself without shame or any sense of privacy, which for the time challenged societal norms completely.”
Lily nodded in agreement; Jungkook was busy staring at your lips as you articulated your opinion, smiling with his arm still around your shoulder. Ben, on the other hand, pulled a face you could only describe as disgusted. “Authenticity? The only authentic thing about Rousseau is that he is able to whine about his feelings like a pubescent girl. It feels almost like narcissism to me.”
"What a stupid take, Ben. With Rousseau writing this book, he laid the foundation for modern notions of individuality; the book challenges the reader to think about their own identity, their individuality," you explained your point further.
“I don’t need a stupid book like this to tell me about my identity or my individuality. It’s literally just a dude whining and rambling about his feelings and whatnot. No one wants to hear it,” Ben snapped.
Jungkook looked between you and Ben while you were arguing; seeing your agitated face when you hated someone made him realize you didn’t hate him at all. You even leaned closer into his arms.
“Well, I think we can use this as a talking point in our presentation,” Lily stated her idea. “How our perception of the book is similar to how we perceive ourselves; there are people like Yn, who confront and explore their feelings, thus creating a healthy relationship with the self, and there are people like Ben, who repress and ignore them, which makes for an angry person; which, by the way, is also an emotion.”
You and Lily giggled at her words, sending each other glances as to say, "God, I fucking hate that guy."
Jungkook decided to chime in. “That’s a good idea. We can use it as an opportunity to dive deeper into the self, to question it. If you are so opposed to Rousseau’s vulnerability, that’s a big indication of your own issues with vulnerability.”
You observed him as he spoke, astonished at his participation. You leaned in even more, to the point where your bodies touched as a way to show him you liked what he said.
“Oh, shut the hell up, man,” Ben shot back. “We all know you’re just here ‘cause of her; you don’t actually give a crap about all this.”
Jungkook simply smirked at him, already having figured out how easily provoked Ben was.
“He obviously cares more than you, ‘cause with that attitude, we are never gonna get a presentation done, much less start,” you defended Jungkook sassily, with a displeased expression sent Ben’s way, who just mumbled, “Yeah, go on, defend your boyfriend.”
“True,” Lily sighed. “By the way, where are we gonna prepare our presentation? The common rooms are always too loud, and all lecture halls are always occupied, and I don’t know about you guys, but my dorm isn’t exactly a mansion.”
You thought about Lily’s concern for a second, and the same resonated with you; your on-campus apartment wasn’t small, but you shared it with four very loud girls.
“We can do it at my place; I don’t mind,” Jungkook offered with a squeeze on your shoulder. “Then I finally have an excuse to invite my baby over.”
You looked up at him, meeting his mischievous eyes. For a moment, you shared intimate eye contact before Ben coughed to get your attention. “At your penthouse? Pff, no thanks. I’m sure a professor will let us use a room here.”
“You are not serious, Ben. Jungkook just offers us to go to his huge penthouse and you decline? I must say, I have never known such a dedicated hater; it’s almost admirable,” Lily admitted her admiration for Ben’s consistency.
“Why the fuck would we go there? It’s off campus, and it’s a penthouse; it’s so… distracting and unnecessary,” Ben debated, irritation written all over him.
“It’s a 15-minute walk and a five-minute drive, man; it’s not in Mexico,” Jungkook concurred, unable to find reason in Ben’s opposition.
“And what’s wrong with it being a penthouse? I personally would love to just hang out at a penthouse. It would make uni work a lot easier, actually,” Lily stated.
“I agree,” you shared, making Jungkook grin like an idiot at the image of you in his house. “And since this is a democracy, and we have one vote against three, we will meet at Jungkook’s penthouse next Sunday; of course, if that works for you, Jungkook."
“Works perfect!” he excitedly responded.
Ben was looking pissed as always; Lily was already thinking about all the pictures she was going to ask you to take of her in the penthouse for her Instagram, and Jungkook and you seemed to be in your own little world, gazing at each other.
“Thank you, Jungkook; that’s really nice of you,” you expressed with a smile, lifting your face to his to plant a short kiss on his cheek.
His heart raced at the unexpected movement; you had never done that before. He froze, his gaze lingering on you for a long moment while you gathered your belongings at the signal of class dismissal. One by one, the students gradually walked out, and you followed suit with Jungkook trailing behind you. He advanced in your direction, watching your hips sway.
“Yn!” he called after you, resulting in you turning around.
“Yes?”
“Go out with me tomorrow night at 7:00, just you and me,” he called out flirtatiously, gaining the attention of everybody around him, but only having his eyes on you.
You grinned mischievously at him before replying, “I don’t know about that… you’ll have to impress me first.”
To anyone else, it might sound like a rejection, but to Jungkook, it sparked a glimmer of hope that made his heart leap with resolve. Until now, it had only been ‘no’s and ‘no thank you’s. He was more confident than ever that he would capture the heart that had captured his.
___
“Yn, what did you do to Jungkook?” Sasha came back from a date night with Taehyung. “Tae told me he can’t stop smiling and is just sitting there, being cheesy as fuck.”
You were writing a sonnet for your poetry class as she barged into your room, looking stunning. “What made him think it’s about me? Let the man smile and be cheesy in peace.”
After Sasha looked at you with a look that said ‘you know damn well,’ you confessed, “He asked me out, and I—”
“You finally said yes??” she quickly interrupted with a dropped jaw.
“Nooo, I said maybe if he impresses me,” you continued. “Oh, and I also kissed him on the cheek.”
“You. Did. Not!” Sasha put a hand over her mouth, a loud gasp leaving it. “No wonder he is a smiling idiot; you broke him!”
“No, I didn’t ‘break’ him; I’m simply doing what I already said I am doing; I’m warming him up, giving him hope,” you explained, putting your pen down. “Because there is a very high chance that I will agree to go out with him soon. I just need that something.”
“That something?” Sasha repeated, confused.
“Yeah, that something; that one moment that makes me go yes, this is the man I want,” you further explained. “I have a good reason, two actually; I’m picky, indecisive, and also a virgin, so if I let him in and then, for some reason, regret it, I will be destroyed. And if I suddenly change my mind after giving him a chance, it will hurt Jungkook really badly, and I don’t want that.”
Sasha looked perplexed and deep in thought at your words, as if puzzling them together and making sense of them. “Oh wow, I never thought of it like that, but now, I totally get you.”
“Well, finally!” you smiled at her and giggled. “Anyway, what are you and Tae wearing to the Halloween party? Cause I was thinking…”
___
You and your girls took Halloween very seriously. You loved the dressing up, the makeup, and you always utilized the only day in the year where it was socially acceptable to be someone else entirely.
Of course, there were always at least six simultaneous Halloween parties going on on campus, and you had to choose between them, which was never a hard decision to make since Kappa Sigma always won. If they’re throwing a party, no other party stood a chance.
You decided to dress up as something cute yet sexy but very recognizable. Last year you came as Jane Eyre, and not a single person guessed your costume right. You decided to go with Chel from ‘The Road to El Dorado’; a white maxi skirt with two slits on the sides, a pink tube top, and statement jewelry with your hair down. It was low effort, yet very effective.
Nora went with Cher from Clueless, Avery of course was Shego, Tanya went creative and dressed as 2010 Justin Bieber, and Sasha and Taehyung were Morticia and Gomez Addams for the night, catching many envious stares.
After all the assignments, the essays, and the overall stress of uni the past few weeks, you hadn’t felt that alive and sexy in a while. Your maxi skirt was clinging to your full lower body seductively, and your tube top took on the very shape of your chest. You looked damn good, and you were ready to feel good too. Promising you wouldn’t drink too much, you took it slow.
Moving your hips seductively to the beat of a The Weeknd song while closing your eyes and tilting your head back, with Avery and Nora dancing together in front of you. Tanya was nowhere to be found, and Taehyung and Sasha were having their own dance party, grinding and kissing like there was no tomorrow. The dancing continued, and with it, the staring. You wished you could just dance at a party and have everybody mind their own business.
After a couple more rounds of dancing and drinking, you felt a firm hand gripping your hips. Turning around immediately, you pushed the guy away and looked at him, terrified. “What the fuck?? Get your filthy hands off of me!!”
Your friends stopped their dancing for a moment to see what was going on. They found Ben, dressed as Patrick Bateman, groping your hips like you were his property. “Just having fun, bird; don’t get all upset.”
Avery and Nora yelled at him, but it wasn’t effective. The scene caused such a huge stir that even Sasha and Taehyung got out of their trance, watching your fight with Ben.
“Yo, dude, get the fuck outta here, or I’ll call the cops on you,” Taehyung stepped in, pushing Ben completely out of the way. “What the fuck made you think you could do this, huh?”
As if he knew just when to step in, Jungkook in a cop uniform just arrived at the scene, asking what was happening.
A very drunk Ben slurred his words in an almost incoherent tone, facing Taehyung. “Look, man, she’s dressed like a slut. So I’m gonna treat her like a slut.”
Jungkook’s eyes widened at Ben’s words, trying to make sense of the situation. He followed Ben’s eyes that were directly watching you, all of your friends and Taehyung just standing shocked, and the only thing between you and Ben was a protective Taehyung. Ben was talking about you.
Without putting any thought into his actions, Jungkook stepped in and punched the guy in his face, causing him to stumble down to the ground, where Jungkook kicked him in the face before crouching down and spitting on him. “What the fuck did you just say??! Did you touch her, huh? Did you fucking touch her? I swear, I’ll kill you; I’ll fucking kill you, man; this is your last day alive, ‘cause I’ll kill you.”
You had no idea what to do in this situation, so you just watched with a shrinking posture, similar to your friends who were all in shock at the scene of Ben lying on the ground, his blood pouring out while Jungkook continued to throw punches. At that point, the entire party stopped and just observed the scene.
"Jungkook, that’s enough. I’d love for you to kill him, but I don’t wanna see you in jail, bro," Taehyung calmly spoke, in order to ease the tension. Jungkook listened to him, standing up; a look that furious had never been on his face.
He turned to you, taking your hands in his, his face softening at the sight of you. “Everything okay, baby?”
You nodded weakly, semi-visible tears rolling down your cheeks. Your instincts told you to hug him, so you did. He immediately pulled you closer to him, his hand on your back and your chest against his as he soothingly rocked you back and forth. Everybody was watching you, but you didn’t find it in yourself to care.
“Come on, I’ll take you upstairs to relax,” he took your hand, guiding you through the crowd and into one of the bedrooms. “Want me to carry you?”
For the first time in those 30 minutes, you cracked a tiny smile, knowing that he was so very serious about carrying you in front of an entire party. “No, that’s fine; I can walk.”
Ignoring the intense eyes of the crowd, you two made your way upstairs.
Your eyes were still slightly watery with tears, and you were still holding onto Jungkook’s hand as you both sat down on the bed. “Thank you, Jungkook.”
He offered you an irresistible smile and brought you in tighter against his solid chest, allowing you to hear his every heartbeat clearly. “That’s my job, baby; no need to thank me.”
“You really didn’t have to do that; I don’t want you to put yourself in danger for me, Kookie,” you spoke against his chest, with a soft, alluring voice, using his nickname to make him happy. “Ben really isn’t worth your anger at all.”
Jungkook took in your entire figure from above you with a gleam in his eyes. “Yn, I will do anything to protect you. I won’t ever allow anyone to harm you.”
You gently pulled away from his chest to meet his loving gaze. You never understood the books where the main character described a romantic encounter by saying ‘it felt like we were the only two people in the world’ until that moment. He leaned in closer, maintaining eye contact. You placed a delicate hand on his muscular arm—too gentle to stop him from getting closer, yet firm enough to prevent yourself from melting into him.
You were face to face with him now—breathing the same air. “You really mean that?”
“I couldn’t be more sincere,” he whispered, the warmth of his words meeting your full lips, his hands firmly placed on your soft, naked waist. “You know, we’ve never been this close before.”
“Yeah,” is all you managed to say, avoiding eye contact.
Suddenly, Jungkook pulled away, standing up, offering you his hand. “As much as I want to kiss you, I don’t think we should do that right now. You obviously drank tonight, and I want you to want to kiss me, and I want you to remember kissing me.”
You nodded and took his hand, not knowing what to say or do. As you stepped outside again, Jungkook’s broad shoulders became your view, him leading you downstairs again to take you home.
“Jungkook?” you said his name quietly, almost in a whisper.
He turned around, watching your shorter and smaller frame from above, looking absolutely tempting. “Yeah?”
“I’ll go out with you.”
___
The week after the Halloween party was exhausting; there were exams, essays, and seminars.
Besides the exams and usual uni duties, Jungkook was very enthusiastic about your first date. Being secretive about what he’d planned, getting your friends to ask you what you expected from a first date in an unsuspecting way, not wanting to annoy you so that you wouldn’t change your mind. It was very endearing.
You were also looking forward to the date, but you were much more subtle about it. Jungkook didn’t care about secrecy as much, telling every single person he knew that you agreed to go on a date with him; the news spread fast, and every student knew about your date.
Taehyung reported to Sasha that he jumped up and down, screaming and shouting out of the windows, “I DID IT! I FINALLY DID IT!” And later, when the pizza they ordered arrived, he tipped the delivery guy 300 bucks and told him, "The love of my life finally agreed to go out with me; I wish for you the same. I wish for every longing soul to experience the same happiness I am in right now, but I don’t think that’s possible because only she is capable of making a human feel this way. Goodbye and good luck, brother."
As for your shared class, he was insatiable. It was about the only time that week where you were able to see each other, and he had made good use of those three hours. In just three lectures, he got you a Swiss chocolate cake with a picture of himself printed on it because Avery informed him chocolate cake was your favorite. He got you a beige rose Lady Dior purse because it "goes well with your complexion," and a pink diamond ring, which he said was "nothing compared to the future engagement ring, of course." Before he signed up for your class, he gave you a gift once every two weeks, so this was a lot even for Jungkook. You told him it was all unnecessary, and he said, "No, this is very necessary; gotta spoil my future wife."
You were drowning in your assignments, your MacBook completely overheating when your name was called.
"Yn! There’s a package for you on the table," Tanya, one of your roommates informed.
You got out of your room confused; you couldn’t remember ordering anything in the last few weeks, and Jungkook usually liked to give you his gifts in person. “Are you sure it’s for me?”
Tanya playfully scoffed at you, reading what’s on the package again. “Is there another Yn here that I have yet to be introduced to?”
You scoffed back, taking the package into your room. Your impatient self couldn’t resist tearing it open to see what’s inside. A note, a small box, and a big white box with the words ‘Givenchy’ on it. Your breath hitched.
The note read: ‘Wear this to our date, gorgeous. Yours forever, JK.’
Almost scared to do so, you opened the white box, revealing a gorgeous, long blue silk dress. Then you opened the smaller box, which held a beautiful 24k gold necklace and matching earrings inside it. That idiot. You smiled to yourself, but quickly realized you shouldn’t.
You were a princess, and you deserved to be treated like one; he was just a rich enough man to comply.
You freed yourself from the clothes you were wearing. Carefully, you took the dress out of the box and put it on.
It fit like a glove, harmonizing with your every curve. The neckline was low, exposing the perfect amount of cleavage.
How did he know my size?
You put the dress back into the box neatly and pulled out your phone.
7:26
Yn: How do you know my size?
7:29
JK: I’m glad you got my little gift. Do you like it?
7:31
Yn: Yes, it is very nice; thank you. It was not necessary at all.
7:32
JK: I’m glad, baby; can’t stop thinking about tomorrow.
7:34
Yn: I’m really excited too.
7:36
JK: Promise you won’t be disappointed.
___
Whistles and girly screams were heard all over your apartment when you stepped out of your room, wearing the blue silk dress that clung to your wide hips and showcased your full chest perfectly; in soft glam makeup and your hair in an elegant updo, dazzled with the matching set of necklace and earrings, a pretty black purse in your hand. You looked the very image of beauty.
“Damn, girl!” Nora let out, impressed by your beauty.
“Does it look good?” you asked. You knew you looked beautiful, but you needed the extra assurance.
“Are you kidding me? You look ravishing, absolutely radiant; your body is just wow,” Avery complimented, observing you from head to toe. “Is that a new dress? It’s soo fucking gorgeous.”
“Yeah, it is; Jungkook actually sent it to me to wear today.” You felt your cheeks heating up at the knowing glances of your friends.
“Mmhmh, he’s a good man, Yn; a good man,” Sasha quoted a TikTok sound. “He’s so gonna freak when he sees you!”
“Is that what was in the package a few days ago? The guy’s got taste; gotta hand it to him,” Tanya chimed in. “When is he picking you up?”
You looked at the clock and answered, “Just in 3 minutes.”
About two seconds after you said that, a knock was heard from your front door.
“Ooooh, somebody’s eager,” Nora wiggled her eyebrows.
You walked to the front door, opening it after letting out an ‘I’ll get that.’
Before you stood Jungkook, wearing black tailored pants and a sophisticated white button-up shirt tucked into his pants, emphasizing his small waist and his muscular frame. In his hand, he held a big bouquet of pink and red roses.
“Hi, Jungkook,” you greeted him with a million-dollar smile.
He observed you with the biggest grin in the world, letting his eyes travel up and down your frame. “You are the most beautiful woman on Earth. Here, these are for you.”
He handed you the bouquet, which you took gracefully. “Thank you! They’re beautiful.”
Your friends freaked out, all attentively watching the interaction.
“Let’s go?” Jungkook said in a questioning tone. You nodded.
“No funny business, mister! We want her home by 11,” Avery screamed while you and Jungkook made your way out. Jungkook laughed, giving her a thumbs up.
“Yeah, you better not try anything with our girl; remember, we see all!” Sasha joined her, while Tanya and Nora made kissing and moaning noises, causing you to facepalm.
“Let’s just go, Jungkook,” you expressed in an embarrassed voice. “I’ll see you girls later!”
Once you were out, you looked at Jungkook apologetically. “I am so sorry; they’re literally so embarrassing sometimes.”
“It’s fine,” Jungkook chuckled, taking your hand in his. “Let them have their fun; they’ve been waiting for this day as long as I have.”
You bit your lip as your eyes met his longing ones.
“Now, let’s go,” he started walking faster towards his car. “I got us reservations at Quince.”
Quince was an Italian restaurant that you only heard of but never entered; it was much too expensive for you to even consider. It was not like you were poor; it was just that Jungkook was wealthy.
You both made your way to the car together; he opened the door for you and then entered himself.
“This is a really nice car,” you stated, taking in the car with a wide-eyed look.
“Yeah?” He started the engine. “It’s a Mercedes-Benz Maybach Exelero.”
You simply nodded, still looking around amazed.
“You know, I’m beyond happy you finally agreed to go out with me,” Jungkook admitted, one hand on the wheel and the other hand finding your thick thighs. “I lost hope there for a while, you know?”
“Well, what can I say? I’m an incalculable girl,” you teased, putting a hand over his, linking your fingers. “You will never figure me out, Jungkook.”
Jungkook’s dimple was visible as you gazed at him while he looked ahead.
“Remember when you told me you’re never going out with me? Well, now you are,” his voice reminisced. “So, I think I will figure you out, Yn.”
You decided to push his buttons a little. “Are you telling me you would wait over two years to figure me out? I didn’t peg you for a patient one.”
“I would wait a lifetime just to get a little piece of your heart and be able to call it mine, Yn,” he professed, his hands tightened, and his eyes gazed at you with yearning.
You didn’t know what to say.
_
The dinner at Quince was a dream come true; Jungkook rented out the entire restaurant for you, the view was breathtaking, every dish was a work of art, and the service treated you like royalty.
“So, do you like it here?” Jungkook asked you as you shared a slice of the best chocolate cake you had ever tasted.
“I love it!” you enthusiastically replied. “It is so beautiful here, Jungkook; honestly, thank you so much.”
The harpist was in the back, playing soft melodies that warmed your heart. You could not believe Jungkook planned all of this for you, and a sense of regret washed over you as you realized this was the man that you had been denying for two years.
“No need to thank me, baby; the important thing is that you’re with me,” he took a piece of cake with his fork and held it in front of your mouth, which you then ate, blushing. “I got something for you.”
Jungkook made a hand gesture, and as if on cue, a staff member came in, holding a framed picture in their hand, handing it to Jungkook.
He held it up for you to see; it was a star map, a very beautiful one. “This is the star map of the day we met—3rd of October, 2 years ago.”
Your eyes widened. “You remember the day we met?”
“Of course I do.”
“Jungkook, it’s so beautiful. I’ll hang it up on my wall,” you admired it while he admired you. “You’re really spoiling me.”
“Of course, baby, that’s my job,” he answered, taking your hand in his. “Now, let’s go; I have something planned for us.”
_
“Where are you taking me now?” you inquired; his secrecy wasn’t scaring you, but you were a naturally curious person.
“It’s a secret, baby. I promise you’ll love it,” Jungkook kept his eyes on the road, responsibly, and his veins ripped along his forearms, your eyes glued to the thickness of his arms.
“Ugh, fine, if you wanna be secretive about this, be secretive about it,” you feigned dramatic annoyance. “Just know that I’m hating every minute of it.”
“I think I can live with that since we’re just three minutes away,” he teased, his dimples evident.
“Three whole minutes of me hating it… you are a very cruel man, Jeon,” you shook your head, enjoying the breeze of the Californian air.
When you arrived in the parking lot of a bar, he pulled up saying, “We’re here!” before stepping out and jogging to your side, opening the door for you. You took his hand, letting him lead the way into the bar.
“A bar?” you asked in a suspicious voice. “Jungkook, a bar is not the place you take a lady…”
He knew you were joking and chuckled lightly.
“Just wait till we get in; you’ll love it,” his excitement was apparent, which confused you even more.
You stepped inside the bar, which was actually prettier than you imagined it would be; it had a calming feel about it. It didn’t look like a traditional bar; there was a stage set up and seats for an audience where about 30 people were already sat.
“Sit here,” Jungkook took your hand and brought you to a seat right in the front.
He made his way onto the stage, which led to you asking him, “What are you doing?” but he didn’t answer your question and just stood in front of the mic.
“So, uh, I wrote a poem a few weeks ago about the girl I love—a girl I have been trying to get with for two straight years and failed every time. I know how much she loves poetry,” Jungkook spoke to the crowd, his eyes gleaming with happiness. “And exactly a week and two days ago, she agreed to go out with me. Actually, this is part of our date; she’s sitting right there.”
He pointed at you proudly; the crowd cheered at the cute story he told and then observed you and cheered some more before letting him continue.
Jungkook looked self-assured, but there were little hints that showed you he was nervous to be standing in front of a crowd the way he was. “Yn, I know your writing is way superior to mine, but I hope you like this regardless. I’m gonna read it now.”
The crowd slightly giggled at his comment, but you could only focus on catching your breath and stopping your tears because you had never expected Jungkook to be as amazing as he was.
“In grand halls where soft echoes linger,
I spread petals, gold on gray floors.
Yet no amount of riches can sway you
To feel what’s in my heart, what I adore.
Two years have passed like silk through fingers,
Each moment woven with hopes and dreams.
But in your eyes, there’s a distant wonder;
You craft your path, and it’s not what it seems.
I’ve painted skies with vibrant colors,
Called stars to shine above you, glowing bright.
But love, I find, goes beyond gold and shine—
Sometimes a simple heart knows what feels right.
Yet here I stand in this space, laid bare,
With wealth at hand, but your laughter’s far away.
I’d give it all, just to share a moment—
To glimpse the dreams you cherish and replay.
Though riches fade like whispers in the dark,
My love, unyielding, still holds the spark.”
The crowd erupted into applause, gasps, and "awe's" and "Girl, marry him's" as Jungkook finished. You sat there, frozen in time and frozen in the words he dedicated to you; your heart beating faster than it should be, and singular tears rolling down your face.
Jungkook left the stage, eagerly approached you with the softest smile. “Did you like it?”
You couldn’t utter a word; you only stood in front of him, shook your head slightly in disbelief, and threw your arms around his neck tightly, jumping into his arms, hiding your face in his chest. You cried.
“Hey, why are you crying? Was the poem that bad?” he half-joked, running his hands over your hair soothingly.
As you finally parted from him, you glanced at his face, adoringly and implored, “Kiss me.”
And so he did. He kissed you hard like a soldier reunited with his loved one after many years; his hands were firmly on your waist, exploring other places of your body—in that moment, you were alone. In that moment, it was only Jungkook and you as you lost yourself in each other.
You stayed like that for a few minutes, lost in each other before staying at the bar for a while, listening to talented poets reciting their work.
___
“I can drive you back to the dorms, or you can—” Jungkook started.
“No, I think I wanna go back to your place,” you quickly interrupted. “Of course, if that’s okay with you.”
After leaving the bar, you entered his car, lips still swollen from all the kissing.
“Of course it’s okay with me; you said exactly what I hoped you’d say,” he smiled. “You know, the girls will probably beat me up tomorrow for not bringing you back.”
“Their excepted behavior, huh?” you asked with a smirk.
The drive to his penthouse wasn’t long at all; it was just enough to talk for a while and enjoy the evening view.
“Oh, absolutely not; they are totally secretly celebrating this because all they’ve been wanting me to do these past two years is give you a chance,” you admitted, also smiling. “Now that that happened, I can just tell you the complete truth; there is nobody more into this than them.”
“Damn, so even with a whole secret support system behind me, it took me two years?” He tsked, finding amusement in the admission. “That’s embarrassing for me.”
You looked up at him through your lashes and tilted your head; he was focusing on the road, but glanced at you as much as he could. “If you were anybody else, it would’ve taken you five more.”
He leaned in to steal a quick kiss; the prideful expression on his face was clear to see. “That’s really good to know.”
You drove around for the next 10 minutes; finally, you arrived at his luxurious penthouse, which was adorned with a huge terrace and a chic entrance that you rushed to hand in hand.
You had already been to his penthouse for the project, yet its beauty didn’t fail to impress you once again; being in this position made it look even more magical.
As soon as you stepped inside, Jungkook grabbed your waist and gently held you, with his lips finding yours again. You stumbled into the spacious yet warm living room. As your lips still moved in sync and passionately, your hands roamed his body, exploring every muscle, every inch. Your gasps intertwined with his heavy breathing, your chest against his. He guided you to the couch and sat down, without breaking the kiss, and with firm, strong hands on your hips, he seated you on his lap.
Your heated core met his clothed, hard dick in sensual movements, the grinding gradually getting quicker and more effective. You felt his hardness press against your covered pussy, leading to feelings unknown to you. Your dress crept up higher with every movement of your generous hips, his hands now on your ass, kneading it while moaning into your mouth.
“Fuck, Yn, you don’t know how fucking long I’ve been waiting for this,” he breathed, breaking the kiss for just a second before going back immediately, earning an agreeing moan from you.
His hands wandered over your entire body, holding your slightly pudgy stomach and traveling up to your full breasts. You couldn’t contain your moans from coming out, your lips moving against his as if they were made for them.
But there was something on your mind that you still had not mentioned to Jungkook.
“Wait, Jungkook—” you interrupted your session with a breathless voice. “I—I have to tell you something.”
He was confused, his face slightly flushed with hazy eyes and parted lips. “Yeah, anything, baby.”
“I’m—I’m a... virgin,” you almost whispered, still sat on his lap, lowering your head so you wouldn’t have to face him. “But I wanna do this.”
His grip on your hips loosened for a second before he firmly grabbed you again. “Oh.”
Your heart sank a little, not knowing what to make of his response.
Just a few seconds later, he continued, “We can take everything slow, baby; we don’t need to rush into anything; we’ll do everything at your pace.”
You nodded, raising your head again to look into his eyes. “Thank you, Kookie.”
“Of course,” he kissed you gently.
“Okay, we can go back to making out now; I just have a tiny problem,” you noted, easing the tension caused by your revelation. “I don’t have anything to wear, and I can’t stay in this dress the whole night.”
Jungkook chuckled and slowly stood up. “Wait here; I’ll get you a t-shirt.”
The few minutes it took him to get you a shirt gave you a chance to take in your luxurious surroundings; the lavish, over-the-top kitchen facing the living room brought a smile to your face, knowing that Jungkook in no way cooked or had any culinary skills whatsoever.
“Here, wear this,” Jungkook came back with a black shirt in his hands. “Next time, we’ll be prepared. Gotta make sure you have your own closet here.”
Your heart beamed at his display of commitment, knowing he was serious about everything he said.
You took the shirt, turning your back to him. “Can you help me zip the dress down? I can’t reach it.”
He obliged happily, zipping the dress’ zip down, his hands lightly brushing over your uncovered back, his lips pressing a small kiss on your shoulder. You turned around, letting the dress fall down, exposing you in just a lacy black lingerie set that left little to the imagination.
His gaze traveled over your entire figure, lips grazing his teeth with a spark in his eyes that conveyed a thousand unspoken thoughts.
“Damn,” he uttered after you put on the shirt, which barely reached your thighs. “Can’t believe you’re even more beautiful than I imagined.”
With newfound confidence, you pushed his chest, resulting in him ending up on the couch once again, and sat down on his lap with an alluring smile.
“I wanna finish what we started now,” you purred against his lips, guiding his hands to your waist. The rhythm of your seductive hips brought his breath to a halt, guttural "fuck's" escaping him.
You quickly stripped away his shirt, revealing his muscular arms and defined abs—all for you to run your hands over and admire, his dick noticeably growing. In response, Jungkook took off your—or his—shirt, leaving you in just a lacy bra, your tits practically spilling out of it; a sight he adored more than anything.
“Shit... please, let me take off the bra,” Jungkook desperately implored, to which you just as desperately nodded. “Just wanna see you like that.”
His fingers toyed with the clasp of your bra before completely unfastening it, exposing your big tits and hard nipples. You were surprised at your lack of shyness, feeling completely free and comfortable, exposed in front of Jungkook like that.
“Fuck,” he growled at the sight of your bare breasts before leaning in, gently taking one into his mouth, sucking it and swirling his tongue around it. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
You pushed your head back from the overwhelming pleasure, one of your tits getting sucked and the other one getting kneaded, while you desperately chased the friction, your thinly clothed pussy rubbing against his dick. It was an erotic experience; Jungkook was introducing you to a new world.
“Baby, if you keep moving like that, I’m gonna cum in my boxers,” he hissed, his strong arms stopping your movements momentarily.
You were both in a state of haziness; desperation was strongly felt in the air. Your pussy was sticky and slick, aching for more.
“Then fuck me, Jungkook,” you whispered urgently, his breath stopping for a second.
“Are you sure about this, Yn?” he sincerely asked, locking eyes with you to look for a speck of uncertainty; he didn’t find it.
“Yes, I’m so sure,” you answered him steadily. “All I want is for you to fuck me.”
With that, Jungkook didn’t waste any time. He stood up, still grabbing your hips firmly while your legs were wrapped around his waist, and carried you toward the elevator, your bare chest pressing against his and your head lazily resting on his broad shoulders. Finally, he carried you to his bedroom, gently throwing you onto the bed.
He looked at you from above, lips caught between his teeth. He hastily put his hands on you, wanting nothing more than to take off your lace panties, the only thing holding him back from seeing you completely bare. So, he did, slipping your panties down your legs until they’re completely off.
His fingers traced your now bare pussy, lightly teasing it, eliciting a gasp from you. “That’s the prettiest, wettest fucking pussy I’ve ever had.”
You blushed, not knowing what to say.
Slowly, Jungkook’s hands moved to the waistband of his boxers, taking them off entirely. His thick, long dick was freed, settling on his lower belly. The pre-cum shimmered on it, ready to enter you at any moment.
Your breath hitched, taking it all in for a second; your eyes widened at the powerful sight before you. He stood above you, symbolizing dominance, while you were naked, sitting on the bed, looking up at him with innocent eyes.
“Can I just…” you leaned forward, facing his pretty dick, giving it a lick.
“Fuck, Yn, yes please,” he stepped forward a bit to give you easier access. “You ever done this before?”
You shook your head, maintaining eye contact. His eyes darkened, turned on by your innocence. Strong hands found your hair, guiding you closer to him.
You gave him more licks and kisses, swirling your tongue around it and kissing every inch of it before finally taking it into your mouth entirely. He was big, so you struggled a little to breathe properly, but you wanted to keep going for him.
“Shit, baby, you’re doing so good,” he groaned as your hands started working him while your full lips were wrapped around him, sucking him. “Just like that.”
Bobbing your head up and down, you slightly gagged around him, but your hand on his hip signaled him to thrust into your mouth further, which he gladly did. The huge bedroom echoed with his shameless groans and praises.
He smelled clean and tasted salty, sort of musky; it was comfortable having him in your mouth. You continued to explore his dick, recalling all the blowjob wisdom given to you by your friends and the internet, and implementing it.
“Baby, I’m close,” Jungkook’s words were barely a whimper, sending more arousal to your slick pussy.
His words elicited desperation in you, desiring nothing more than to give him pleasure. You bobbed your head harder, his groans getting louder and his thrusts quicker. His hands tightened around your hair; it was obvious he was losing control, chasing his high.
The heat was building, Jungkook’s voice getting louder, and a few seconds later, a warm, salty liquid filled your mouth, which you instinctively swallowed. You released his dick from your grip and looked up at him.
His head was tilted back, eyes closed and breathing heavily before he finally looked down at you, leaning in and giving you a kiss. He put his boxers on again.
“You did so great, baby,” he praised, now sitting next to you on the bed. “I’m glad I’m your first... and last.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck, hiding your face in his shoulder. “I’m glad too.”
You stayed in his embrace for a few minutes; he soothingly whispered sweet nothings into your ear. With determination, you started grinding against him again; this time, your bare pussy against him. A rush of blood was sent to his dick, slowly getting erect again.
“You’re driving me crazy, you know that?” Both of his hands were positioned on your moving hips, furthering the friction between you.
“Yeah, I do, actually,” you admitted in a sultry whisper, licking his upper lip playfully.
“Yeah?” His eyes traveled from your eyes to your lips.
“Hmmm, yeah,” you tilted your head flirtatiously, giving in to another kiss. “So, are you gonna fuck me today or not?”
Jungkook chuckled, clearly amused by your directness. “Baby, I just want to be sure you’re 100% sure about this.”
“I am sure!” you spoke with a tinge of urgency. “Can’t you feel my wetness? I need you, Kookie; I need you to be inside of me.”
The contrast of your words and the usage of his silly nickname made Jungkook’s heart race. He felt the urge to take you right then and there.
With a quick shift, he stood up, grabbed a soft towel and put it on the bed, and gently pushed you so you lay on the bed, ready for him to enter. He towered over you, fingers finding your wet pussy again, playing with it. After removing his boxers again, he fisted himself, the sticky sound of pre-cum finding you; you enjoyed the view more than you would admit. He opened a pack of condoms and took one out, wrapping it around his big dick.
“You sure you’re sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure, I’m sure,” your bratty attitude started to show.
Jungkook came closer, parting your legs slightly, taking in the sight of your pussy, glistening for him. As he approached your entrance, he maintained eye contact. “This is gonna hurt a little at first, baby, but tell me as soon as it’s too much, okay?”
You nodded, your eyes filled with anticipation and nervousness. “Okay.”
He held onto you gently and slowly entered your wetness, eliciting a loud gasp from you. As he entered further, you grabbed onto him tighter, burying your head in his shoulder and clawing his back with your nails. “Fuck, this pussy is so fucking tight.”
“Does it hurt, baby?” he gently asked through heavy breaths, his thrusts continuing to be soft. You nodded. “It’s okay; just a moment and it’ll feel good.”
And he was right; just a couple of seconds into more soft thrusts, the pain transformed into satisfying pleasure that quickly took over, your gasps turning into soft moans.
“Jungkook… fuck me harder,” you begged, pushing him down and closer to you; your bodies sticking together even closer than before. “Please.”
Gradually, his thrusts became harsher, lips moving from your neck to your tits that were begging for his attention and his big hands that gripped your ass. Your desperate grip on his back firmed as you clenched around his dick, causing his breath to hitch. He deepened his thrusts, hitting your walls sensually, introducing you to a pleasure you never knew you could feel.
“Shit, you feel so good around me,” his deep, grunting voice hugged you. “Gonna fuck you stupid; nobody else can touch you like that.”
His ongoing rambling about how good you felt, how beautiful you were, and how long he had waited for this made you feel like you were the most cherished woman on Earth. You couldn’t believe that this was happening. If someone had told you two years ago that you would be in Jungkook’s penthouse, his dick ramming into you deliciously; you would laugh in their face. But here you were.
To add an element of surprise, you suddenly changed the position, turning the both of you around and pushing him down to the bed, taking control as you rode him up and down. A cocky smirk formed on his annoyingly pretty face, looking up at you in admiration.
“You learn quick,” he praised in a grunt, putting his head between your bouncing tits.
You were too lost in pleasure to respond, your ass clapping against his balls and your hands were all over his broad upper body, savoring every inch of him. Your head tilted back in bliss as his dick slipped in and out of your wet, tight pussy; a sight that Jungkook enjoyed very much.
“Baby, I’m close, shit… I’m so fucking close,” he informed with a breathy voice, bitten lips, and hazy eyes, dick thrusting up more desperately than before.
Your walls tightened more around his throbbing dick, indicating to him that you were also close. “Yeah? Me too, baby.”
After a minute of passionate thrusting and bouncing, Jungkook’s body suddenly tensed, reaching the edge. He released a warm flood of cum with a loud “fuck” coming out of his mouth.
With a grind of your hips, a moment later, you also reached a pinnacle, your breath hitching and your eyes closed. You got off of Jungkook and laid next to him on the bed, both of you still trying to come down from the high you experienced.
He slowly stood up, grabbed the bloodstained towel he laid under you to put it in the washing basket, leaning down to plant a kiss on your lips. “You did so good, you know that?”
You simply smiled sheepishly, also getting up to clean yourself and pee. When you came back from Jungkook’s extravagant bathroom, he was lying on the bed now wearing boxers with an eager smile. “Come here.”
You obliged with swaying hips, your naked figure waltzing over to his king-size bed, laying your head on his chest. “Today was amazing, Jungkook. Thank you for everything.”
He held your hand in his, kissing your head gently. “Baby, that was nothing; I wanna thank you for everything. It’s really special to me, what you did.”
“It was easy, being with you and all,” you admitted in a soft voice. “You know, I feel surprisingly very comfortable with you, Jungkook; it’s weird.”
That made him chuckle; his chest left a vibration. “I think I’m gonna take that as a compliment…?”
“You should.”
“I don’t think this needs to be said, but I hope you know this means we’re together now,” Jungkook started, now looking deeply into your eyes from above. “Like an item, a thing, boyfriend and girlfriend, soon to be wed, a coup—”
You stopped him with a giggle, laying a loving hand on his chest. “I get it, Jungkook, and I know.”
“Good.” He tightened his grip on your shoulder, smirking as he looked down at your naked body. “Next time, I wanna cum inside; so you better get started with birth control.”
“Jungkook!!”
——-
i hope whoever reads this enjoyed it🫶🏽🫶🏽 btw the poem is completely AI generated😭 i really wanna make this sort of a series like make write a bunch of different scenarios for this couple; pls tell me your opinion on that.
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bamsywrites · 2 days ago
Text
And Comes Dawn pt 15
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Pairing: Sauron/Halbrand x Reader, Isildur x Reader, Sauron/Halbrand x Galadriel
Summary: Sweet One overhears something she is not meant to.
Tags: manipulation, Saurons inner thoughts though they're pretty tame this time, insecure reader, confessions all around, angsty
Notes: this takes place starting at the scene from the gif. Not super heavily edited so let me know if there's anything glaring. As always leave feedback, I love anything and everything I get. And if you feel inclined here is my Kofi. (https://ko-fi.com/bamsy95253)
“ Whatever it was he did to you, and whatever it was you did, be free of it.” Galadriel spoke those words, and it was as if the final piece had fallen into place. The elf trusted him. It would not be hard to get to Eregion, and then it would only be a matter of time until he could forge his weapon. Until he could enact his rule, his control. To bring peace for all middle earth.
To bring peace for you. To ensure your safety.
Galadriel was a worthy ally, someone he'd want at his side. He was more certain now he'd likely need her at his side in order to achieve the optimal outcome. He'd do what he needed to that end, “I never believed I could be. Until today. Fighting at your side, I… I felt if I could just hold on to that feeling, keep it with me always, bind it to my very being, then I…”
“I felt it too.”
And she had fallen into the palm of his hand. It was a fun little game, one he hoped to continue. He looked at her, his hand moving ever so slightly towards hers. Whatever it took, he'd do it. For peace. For order.
For you.
He knew how you'd feel if you heard this conversation. The tension between you and the elf had lessened, but he could sense there was still an insecurity there that you had delegated her as more than you following a checklist of traits he could not understand. He knew you were wary of his interactions with her, fearing you'd be replaced, but you never spoke it. You never dictated who he could and could not spend time with, and he, perhaps surprisingly, offered you the same grace. He had no worries of the boy taking you from him. He knew you were smitten. However, he knew that the implications of his words to the elf would break you. He had only ever spoken to you of being better, of doing better, so speaking of the elf as if she was the key to his redemption would be a blow that he did not know if he could fix.
But your safety was what this was all for. He would do whatever he could to that end. He would fill the elf with lies, perhaps even hold her hand in his or kiss her, if only that meant a world where you did not die, where you did not feel pain or hunger or fear.
“Halbrand, the queen ...um…the queen Is looking for you.”
Your voice broke the spell between him and Galadrial. His fears crushed upon him, and he could not help but feel an overwhelming anger, an anger he hid with a shaky breath. He could hear the breaks in your voice, the thickness of tears unshed weighing down your words. You'd heard it all, and you were walking as fast as your feet could carry you in the opposite direction.
~
Your head was down as you walked away from them. His words ring in your ears.
Stupid girl. Stupid, stupid, stupid girl. Of course, he would not want you now. He was to be a king, and you were just you. You had no doubt he cared for you, but there had always been something with the elf. Lingering looks, touches that lasted a few moments too long. You were not upset that he could feel such things for another. There was a cloud of ‘What if?’ around Galadriel. What if you hadn't been on that raft? You had come to the conclusion that Halbrand and Galadriel would have fallen into that old trope of beautiful elven woman and mortal man.
It wasn't the ‘What ifs?’ that bothered you. You had plenty of those yourself. Without Halbrand, you are sure you would have fallen hard for a certain Numenorian. But as much as Isildur made you laugh, you never entertained the idea of anything more, and when touches lingered, you would call him out on it. And Isil respected you, respected your courtship.
No matter the what ifs’, you met Halbrand first, and your heart was his, and it was shut off to all others. Halbrand couldn't seem to do that with Galadriel, and that was what bothered you so. You were not important enough to him for him to let that go. It seemed he couldn't be happy with just you.
You weren't enough.
Your head was down, and you were furiously wiping away tears. You didn't want anyone to see your shame. You wanted to disappear. Perhaps the earth could swallow you up. You took some breaths to gain your composure before you made it to the village, but your lip trembled. You couldn't get his voice out of your head. You knew he was behind you. You didn't know how far, and you didn't care. You weren't interested in his explanations, how he'd excuse it or worse tell you his feelings have changed. Your feet carried you through the village. You ignored anyone trying to talk to you as you made your way up the ridge.
You sat there in the grass, you could see the people below. You could make out Halbrand, The Queen, Galadriel. You knew it was a triumphant time for your people. You knew it was the man you loved down there, but right now, you just wanted to be alone. You were exhausted from the emotional whiplash. You sniffled and wiped your nose, your cheeks felt raw and stiff from the tears.
You were broken from your thoughts when Isildur sat next to you. He said nothing, just sat with you. It was interesting how his presence lessened your despair, you didn't feel so alone. He was the one person you felt would not judge you or try to invalidate you. You both enjoyed the silence for a few minutes before he broke it.
“I would offer to stab him, but now that he's a king I fear that would not be the best course of action. Perhaps putting rocks in his boots, horse shit in his bed. We must get creative.”
You smiled, wiping the tears from your eyes. He looked to you and smiled softly, following your gaze to where you stared at Halbrand and Galadriel.
“I do not know what it is he has done, only that you'd only be here crying if it was him who had done something. Whatever you may need of me, I am here to offer it to you.”
You swallowed, wetting your lips with a nod. You were silent for a few more moments before speaking, “I feel as if I don't know his heart, not truly. Sometimes, I feel as if we are one and others, and it feels that there is this gaping chasm between us. His words and actions do not always agree, and I struggle to know what to believe. I believe he loves me, but I do not know if I'm the only one. I would understand if she did hold his heart, for she is most things I am not.”
He listened as you spoke, brow furrowed, “Most things you are not? I do not know what you mean by that, but I do know love is not a list to be marked off. It does not care if you are an elf, low man, or high man. It does not matter. If an elven king were to declare his love for you, would that change who you love? Or would you still love Halbrand? The answer to that is rather obvious, I think.”
“I wish he could be content with me. It seems he is restless. It seems….he wants something from her, something I cannot give him. That is what hurts the most. He has given me all I need and more and I have given what I can and yet it is not enough.”
Isildur was thinking of a response, fingers picking at the grass when you spoke so softly he almost did not hear it.
“I wish I was enough.”
His fingers stopped picking the grass, and he looked at you, “Is his opinion of your worth the only one that matters?”
You sniffled and looked at him, wiping your eyes.
“You put too much worth into what he thinks of you when it doesn't matter, not really. Are you enough for you? Are you happy with who you are?”
You sat there in silence. What he was saying made sense. It just wasn't what you expected from him.
“Your worth comes from your heart. Your kindness, your empathy. It comes from your values. From your mind. Your soul. It is not from being enough for Halbrand. Or for me. Or for anyone. Do not give anyone that control over you.”
~
He didn't chase you. It took everything in him not to. He hated it, the feeling of guilt that settled in his chest, how many scores of men and elves had he killed and felt nothing? He had sat with the elf while she cried about her dead brother, a brother he had killed, and felt nothing. But a tremble of your lip and tears in your eyes, and he was riddled with it. He still despised how you could make him feel. it gave you a sense of control over him.
No one had control of him like this, only Morgoth, and that control was taken from him through manipulation and torture. You had used no such tactics. You simply existed, and he was wrapped around your finger. You simply smiled, and he was on his knees. There was not a moment that went by that his mind wasn't consumed with you, thoughts of your safety, and thoughts of your future. Thoughts of how he was to keep you safe.
It was odd to compare you to Morgoth, but he could not deny that, to an extent, you were his master. Even if you didn't command him or lead his actions, he was doing all this so that he could be with you forever, so he could protect you. In that way, you were in control.
He didn't run after you, despite all that, because this conflict would benefit him in the long run. And to that end, it would benefit you. He needed to give Galadriel pause when it came to his feelings for you. He needed her to think his feelings for you were comparable to his feelings for her. He needed her to think that if he had to choose, he might choose her.
There was no choice, though. Not one where she was victorious.
His eyes followed you as you walked up the hill and sat. He could feel the sadness radiating from you even this far away. He would fix it. In time. His attention was pulled away as the queen spoke to him, and he confirmed himself the king of the Southlands. It was an ego stroke to have them chant for him. If only they knew. He smiled as he looked around, reveling in their chants and praise. His smile only faltered when he noticed who else was missing from the crowd.
The boy.
And when his eyes found you on that hill again, his blood boiled to see you weren't alone.
~
Isildur had given you space. His words had resonated with you. Before Halbrand, you had been confident and content in who you were. You had a past that you wanted to atone for, but you were not insecure. You knew who you were and what you dreamed of. You knew your worth, your strengths, your flaws. It all made you who you were, and you liked who you were.
It seemed love had changed that. You loved Halbrand. It would hurt to lose another person you loved, and so you worried and obsessed over it. Over your worthiness for it. But you knew you were worthy of love and happiness by simply existing. If Halbrand valued Galadriel over you, that was his choice, and while it would hurt, the sun would rise and set, and you would move on.
If you could overcome your father becoming a violent fanatic and warping your family into a murderous cult, you would overcome Halbrand loving someone else.
Your gaze wandered to Isildur with Berek and his father. It was far enough you could not make out the conversation, but you could tell it was a heartfelt one. You were glad for it. Their relationship had been too trained for too long.
The calm was broken as water erupted from the ground, screams filled the air, and orcs began chanting. You stood and watched in horror, frozen in place amongst the chaos. Then fire rained from the sky, and your body sprung into action. The children, the injured, they had to have help, and they couldn't be left alone. As soon as you started running toward the village, you were pulled back.
“No! You must not go,” Isildur demanded, his hands holding your wrist.
“Isil, they need help, they need -”
“They need you at the camp. They need you to heal them. Take Berek. I will make sure Halbrand is safe. That your people survive.” He held your face in his hands as he pleaded over the sounds of screams.
“What if you don't return?” Your voice trembled, and lip quivered.
“I would not give you my horse If I was not certain I would come back.”
He gave no warning before lifting you up on the horse,his hand squeezing yours, “If I do not return, I need you to know that I….I love you. Even if it is not returned.”
There was no time for a response before Berek was off, taking you to the Numenorian camp as fast as he could.
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joelstummy · 13 hours ago
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Purr | (joel miller x ofc) (18+)
A Oneshot for the Dick Pronouns Challenge posed by @sp00kymulderr
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pairing: Dark!Landlord!Joel Miller x OFC Lilah summary: Joel is a simple landlord. He is really very generous, offering up great deals on his spare apartment units for desperate parents housing their new college students. But he does have one stipulation: No Pets. When an innocent little Freshman breaks that rule, Joel has another deal on deck to make it right again. warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] serial deflowerer!joel, joel pov, no outbreak!au, GIRTHY fucking age gap (Joel is 65, OFC is 18. Please don’t read or interact if that makes you uncomfortable, it’s meant to be dark), stalking, dick and pussy pronouns, virginity!kink, innocence!kink, fetishization of (legal) young adulthood, manipulation, degradation, misogyny, predatory behaviors, invasion of privacy, sexual quid pro quo, referring to pussy as “cat/kitty/kitten”, fingering, oral (f!receiving), squirting, spanking, coerced unprotected PIV, intentionally misleading reassurances regarding pregnancy risks (due to these last two items I’m going to label this as dubcon), exploitation of innocence. word count: ~8.5k DISCLAIMER: author is choosing to withhold certain tags to avoid spoilers. but there is no drug use/drugging, alcohol, pregnancy, abortion, or explicit noncon (other than joel leveraging the FMC’s lack of sexual knowledge to his advantage and other elements that read, in the author’s opinion, as dubcon. But please read at your own risk if you are sensitive to dubcon or coercion). ADDITIONAL DISCLAIMER: This should go without saying, but. If you are 18 years old, I don't recommend fucking a 65-year-old man. Not as your first, second, or third+ sexual experience. That man does not have good intentions or sincerity in his heart. This is written as a fantasy, in a fictional world, where no one can get hurt. Fantasizing is GREAT. Reality is DUBIOUS AT BEST! Be smart about your old man crushes IRL. Stay safe ♥️. a/n: First off, I have to shout out the OG landlord!joel Red Light by @kiwisbell. What an incredible fic and a delicious iteration of Joel. Highly recommend. As for this new Joel of mine...guys, I adore him. This fic flew out of me, despite having to stop several times while writing to...take care of things. I hope you love him just as much as I do. This is also my first time writing an OFC for Joel, and I hope it's not too much of a deterrent. It's entirely from Joel's POV, so the OFC is viewed solely from his lens, which I found very fun to play around with.
Available Only to Registered Users on AO3!
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webanglikethat · 15 hours ago
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things ram and devi have done and said without even saying they’re in love / being in a relationship because they drive me insane:
Ram defied orders from the LITERAL goddess because he didn’t want Devi to die, thus ignoring his duties
-> like …. he willingly let another woman DIE in Devi’s place and !!!! this act had been committed five years ago, when the affection between the two had BARELY begun blossoming
-> “Why bother when the goddess herself allows you to decide people’s fate?” had been Devi’s question to him, but little did she know, he already defied every rule for her, going against literal fate
he saved Devi during the arson, putting her before his own BROTHER
he went after Devi when she took off on an horse during the attack, and carried her in his arms back to safety (which he realllyy didn’t have to do 🤭)
it’s revealed he would purposefully change his route to catch a glimpse of Devi
-> Ram’s wishful desire was to see her at every service; just hoping to catch her smile along the hallowed halls where once they met
he “noticed an unfamiliar feeling rising inside him” when he met her again
Ram always found an excuse to touch Deviya — holding her hand to lead her somewhere, brushing his fingers over her cheek to calm her, cupping her face, putting a hand on her waist, trapping her against the wall, his finger on her lips, holding her hands tighter as if it could heal her holding her waist as she straddled him
he said he “missed her smiling at him”
he kissed her neck (quite literally marking her) while thinking of how De Clare would react, not realizing the jealousy that was growing in his heart at the thought of losing her to him
-> which he then said (in season 2) he’d do it on her wedding day too !!
-> in the same episode he tried to pretend he doesn’t care about their engagement 💀, mission failed my dude 🤭
“That. The way he felt when she was near him. The reason he always looked for her in the crowd and couldn’t stop teasing her”
ram always thought of marriage as a transaction, a duty to be fulfilled, something he simply had to do. and love? love wasn’t a necessary equation. that’s what his family line looked like — alliances, partnership, all devoid of tenderness. but Deviya awakened something in Ram — and for the first time, he was confused and lost
“It’s ironic that even with all the knowledge and wisdom of the world at my disposal, I still can’t figure this out on my own. I’m almost thirty, and for all of my life I have denied myself what I wanted because the greater good was more important. And in all this time… no one has ever been able to enchant me as much as…”
Ram talked Devi through her anger at the reception so she wouldn’t make a mistake in front of her guests and lose the position she had so long worked for (he helps her see the bigger picture)
Ram told her their connection wasn’t for nothing. they were fated for a reason
the less often he saw her, the more he wanted to see her
-> and if she didn’t came, he would wait for her
he noticed everything she did — be it the way she shifted from foot to foot when she was nervous or how she looked at him in fear (from the subtlest of things to the most obvious, he noticed it always)
he teased her about how much she liked him but then said:
“such a rakhasi cannot possibly die. I need her”
admitting, even if it was meant as a tease, that he could no longer exist in a world in which her presence didn’t fill his heart’s pages
he comforted her on the day of her death, quickly realizing that:
“/ wish this had happened to me instead... hasn't she been dealt enough pain already, in her life?”
“when Ram realized how sincere his desire to take all Deviya's troubles for himself was, it quickly became clear that their secret relationship had taken on a new meaning … growing into something profound”.
what started as a perhaps meaningless, fleeting, teasing affair quickly turned into something more — something he couldn’t put a name to, but he could feel encompassing his body every single second
he could no longer pretend it was just for fun or a distraction
so he finally mustered up the courage to ask Devi to be with him (but not officially 😔) even if it was in secret — for he would rather have her in secret, than lose her be it to death or another man. 
noticing how distressed she was, he closed his eyes and then slowly began kissing her fingers. Devi noticed that his eyelashes were trembling. “he’s nervous as well, but once again he tries to reassure me first, even though he could use some support himself."
he always put her before himself, over and over again. this isn’t something he was taught, like I mentioned before. for him, marriage or love was based on children, mutual respect and the husband’s views. yet he interminably put himself in the background, just to help Devi shine
“they kissed each other gently and yet desperately at the same time, as only doomed lovers can kiss.”
“he was with her right at that moment. sharing her pain and fear... would that have been possible if what they had was fleeting? he always chose her, no matter what.”
Ram: “I'll be with you. no matter what.” Devi: “I know”
he fought for her, allowing her to escape
and her thoughts led to him, even as she bled out
“the very thought of losing him was unbearable. and just as things were beginning to blossom between them.” “dying would be a little easier if you were holding my hand right now”
"I'm with him in my thoughts, heart, and soul." // "even if it doesn't make any real sense, it does for me. l feel calmer this way."
being away from her, when she was in a coma, made Ram feel like he was dying too // the thought of losing him (as she actively died) felt even worse than death
-> his biggest dream was being able to touch her again, to gaze into her eyes, to see his affection being mirrored in hers. to hear her laughter again was all he could hope for
they risked MULTIPLE times to be caught just to bask in each other’s presence — even if it was only for a few moments because the risk was worth it — they are worth it to each other
his face “instantly lost colour” when she mentioned her wedding
he tried pretending it didn’t hurt him — that he could accept it, that he could have a part of her and let it be enough, but they both knew the truth
so she laid out her future: her married to De Clare, visiting India from time to time, meeting Ram’s wife — but not him because he would still remain a coward who couldn’t voice what he wanted
so he finally let his feelings free and kissed her, marking her neck (in the middle of the hall where everyone could’ve caught them)
he touched her under the table — at dinner, where again, anyone could’ve seen them !!!
the moment Devi’s smile faded, Ram noticed immediately and shifted his tone, asking softly, “is something wrong?” -> he is SO attuned to her emotions, so skilled at noticing even the slightest change — which is especially important since Ram isn’t portrayed as someone who does this for just anyone
they know each other well enough to play off each other’s words without malice — their banter is so much fun (especially on passion route)
he fingers her in the library 🤭 he’s SO careful with her even though it’s obvious they’re both overwhelmed by the connection — he’s letting her set the pace and the fact that Ram doesn't push, but instead allows her to slowly move at her own pace, amplifies her vulnerability and makes her every move feel more significant. she’s still confused on what she wants and he lets her explore it on her own, and she knows he will wait for her
he wanted to dance with her despite not knowing how to — and in front of everyone too !! he was ready to embarrass himself for her
-> he is so caught up in her that he’s willing to push past his own comfort zone, even if it means embarrassing himself a little; as long as he can witness her smile
now she is the one who takes the power and kisses him, marking HIS neck — and so they imagine each other naked, finally taking the next step and ….
he finally admits it to himself.
He wanted to finally understand what it meant to connect with the woman he loved with all his heart.
Ram Doobay is in love with Deviya Sharma.
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ineffablyruined · 3 days ago
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Happy Friday! @interesting-egg and I hope you've had a great week and are ready for the next installment!
The Prompt for Week 16 is:
Sparkling.
Champagne? Eyes? The Bentley with a fresh coat of wax? So many things can sparkle in Good Omens. What's it going to be this week?
The collection to house your beautiful creations is available here:
New to the Prompt-A-Thon? Welcome!!! We're thrilled to have you. More info about participation is below the Read More (along with the tags)!
The Rules Are Simple:
Every Friday until the Season 3 premiere, I'll post a prompt.
You will have a week to write, draw, paper craft, record, completely scrap and start from the beginning after a crisis of confidence (oh, is that just me?), and post your interpretation of the prompt.
Tag your post #IneffablePromptAThon, #IneffablePAT #Ineffable Prompt-A-Thon, and/or #IPAT. Make sure to use them on Tumblr, X, IG, and AO3 so everyone can easily find your works!
Also tag your posts and AO3 with the Week Number and the Prompt, so we can all tell which prompt your creation accompanies.
Tag me @ineffablyruined in all of your posts, too, so I can reblog!
Add your contribution to the Ineffable Prompt-A-Thon collection on AO3 for this week. Link is below!
Look for the next prompt. Rinse. Repeat.
HAVE FUN!
This is meant to be zero stress. If you can't do a week, that's completely fine! Prompt not working for you? Skip it. Going to be late? No worries at all!
TAGS:
@naturallyteal @bumblee27 @czitara @martinsharmony @ineffable-xenanigans @dierama-mojo @lickthecowhappy @ineffably-queer-book-lover @eybefioro @crowleys-hips @goodoldfashionednightingale @depraveddame @interesting-egg
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liaromancewriter · 1 day ago
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Favorite Ex
Premise: Ethan runs into an old flame, and it brings some much-needed closure for both of them.
Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Angst. Words: 1,570
A/N: Submission for @choicesmonthlychallengenov2024 prompt day 26: "regret" and @choicesprompts Angstgiving prompt "what could have been"
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Ethan Ramsey needed a drink.
The annual National Medical Symposium in Miami, with its focus on cutting-edge medical advancements, had been interesting enough. Still, the obsequious flattery that went hand in hand with his increasingly rare visits to medical conferences got on his nerves. He couldn’t care less about what others wanted from him, but after all these years, he knew how to play the game.
Naveen would joke that with age, he’d gained maturity and wisdom. His wife would just snort and proceed to tease him about getting soft until he took her to bed just to prove her wrong.
She pushed him out of his comfort zone. And for her, he was willing to embrace the unknown.
A few years ago, he hadn’t been so… flexible. He reflected absently, walking into the busy hotel bar and scanning the room for an empty seat.
Or as willing to admit that he needed someone to come home to. Someone who understood him and filled the empty holes in his heart. He couldn’t deny it anymore, not even to himself.
Seeing a patron settle his tab and leave, he rushed to grab the padded bar stool. His shoulders dropped at the thought of sipping smooth whiskey while decompressing by exchanging sexy texts with his wife.
Should’ve insisted she accompany me, Ethan thought wearily, raking one hand through his hair.
He placed his phone on the bar, smiling as he often did at the sight of their wedding picture on the screen. He traced one finger down her laughing face, the photo a reminder of the moment she'd insisted he smile—really smile—for once.
He wondered when he’d become such a sap. Maybe she was right, and he was getting soft in his forties.
“What’ll be, sir?” The bartender asked hurriedly.
“Whiskey, neat.”
Ethan froze at the familiar voice behind him. He hadn’t heard it in years, but he’d know it in a dark room with his eyes closed.
Surprise had him swiveling on the stool to face her. Sparkling green eyes met shocked blue ones.
The years fell away as if no time had passed since that fateful night at Donahue’s when she’d correctly guessed his drink order on her first day as an intern at Boston’s Edenbrook Hospital.
“And don’t be stingy,” Dr. Cassie Valentine said, a smile tugging at her lips. “Judging by the look of him, it’s been a three-finger kind of day.”
“Hello, Dr. Ramsey.”
Ethan opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat, refusing to come. He inclined his head in greeting instead, a poor acknowledgment of the woman who’d been the first to breach through his walls.
The one who’d made him break all his rules and not give a damn about the consequences.
His mind flooded with memories. The quiet intimacy of watching the snow fall outside as they cuddled after making love. The warmth of holding hands on their way to Derry’s for coffee and a stolen moment of peace. The thrill of sneaking glances across the diagnostic team’s office despite their resolve to keep things strictly professional at work.
If it hadn’t been for his temporary but all-consuming love affair with Cassie, would he have even given Joanna a chance?
Ethan hoped the answer was yes. He loved his wife, and it would be an incredible disservice to what they meant to each other for him to believe otherwise.
“Still a man of few words, I see,” Cassie teased as she slid into the empty seat beside him, resting her chin lightly on her hand.
“You know me well,” he said gruffly, swallowing the lump that had lodged in his throat.
“I thought I did,” Cassie cooly inclined her head, but the laughter in her eyes betrayed her. “I still can’t believe you’re here. Remember when we attended this conference when I was an intern?” She giggled. “You hated every minute of it and weren’t exactly shy about saying so.”
Ethan hunched his shoulders. “I wasn’t that bad.”
He had a very different memory of that time. It had nothing to do with the symposium and everything to do with a moonlit balcony and his morals drowning in the heady scent of her perfume.
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, you were!”
The bartender returned with his drink, setting the lone glass in front of Ethan. The man looked questioningly at Cassie, but she shook her head.
“Not in the mood?” Ethan asked as he lifted his glass.
“Can’t,” she said, placing one hand on her belly.
Ethan stilled, a mix of complicated emotions he didn’t dare examine too closely surging through him.
Whenever he thought of Cassie, which wasn’t as often now as it had been in those early years, he still saw the resident who worked side by side with him during the day and slept in his bed at night.
The one he’d fallen in love with but could never confess the words to because there was a timer on their relationship. When her residency ended, she’d move on, ready to conquer the medical world with her amazing diagnostics instincts. And he’d be left behind. Again.
So, he’d held back and let the words fade into the ether.
It had been for the best, Ethan reasoned. Her eventual departure hadn’t lessened the hurt, but it had been cleaner.
He hadn’t been looking for love again, but one day, he bumped into a red-haired chef at the farmer’s market, and his life tilted on its axis. Literally, in this case, since he found himself falling to the ground and grabbing her on his way down.
So, he burned his dreams of what couldn’t be and allowed himself to believe in a new and permanent love.
In the last few years, he’d heard of Cassie’s accomplishments; her groundbreaking research, the accolades that followed. The diagnostic medical community was small, after all. He’d felt pride at seeing her star rise, convincing himself that was all it was. Just pride. Nothing more.
Until now.
“Congratulations,” he said softly, the word heavier than it should have been.
He forced a smile, willing himself to ignore the ache that stirred, a reminder of what could never be. He had made peace with it. Or so he thought. Yet here she was, and peace felt like a lie.
“Thanks,” Cassie said with a wistful smile. “I’m still in my first trimester, so we’re keeping it on the DL.”
She tilted her head, her gaze dropping briefly to the wedding ring on his left hand. “You’re married?”
“Yes. Two years next month.”
A silence fell between them—heavy, unfamiliar, and uncomfortably awkward. The rowdy laughter of a group of physicians erupted nearby, breaking through the tension like an unwelcome intrusion.
Cassie glanced toward the noise, her lips twitching into a faint, distracted smile before her gaze returned to him.
Ethan fought to keep his gaze steady, trying and failing to ignore the curve of her lips or the way her stylish blonde hair framed her timeless features. He remembered its softness against his skin as she nestled against him before drifting off to sleep, their hands still touching when they woke the next morning.
Joanna wasn’t into cuddling. She was often too tired after a long night at the restaurant and preferred sleeping on her side, her back to him.
Until this moment, Ethan had forgotten he enjoyed the intimacy of a lover wrapped around him. Cassie had once called him a world-class snuggler, and he’d cherished the title as if he’d won a Nobel Prize.
They had been happy. So, why couldn’t they make it work?
“Are you happy?” she asked eerily, picking up on his ambivalence.
He wanted to say yes. He was happy. Hadn’t he been reflecting on just how much a mere ten minutes ago? So, why was he hesitating?
Shame spiraled through him. He adored Joanna, and he loved their life together.
And yet, a part of him still wondered about the road not taken. Maybe it was time he stopped.
He drew in a long breath. “What happened to us?”
Cassie slid him a guarded look. Her fingers curled and uncurled in her lap.
Ethan didn’t think she’d respond and opened his mouth to take the words back.
“You never asked me to stay.”
He sat back, poleaxed.
“We went from gold rush to cold touch,” Cassie said, sadness clouding her features. “As my residency was ending, I could feel you slowly pulling away from me. And still, I waited for any word from you, something to give me hope that we had a future together.”
Ethan could hardly move, let alone speak at the confession.
“You were my best nights and my worst. I cried myself for weeks after, and then I let us go.”
Cassie slid off the stool and smoothed down her dress. “I’m glad I ran into you. I’ve wanted to say these words to you for the longest time but never had the courage.”
Her eyes softened as she took a step back. “You will always be my favorite ex. Goodbye, Ethan.”
And then she was gone, her scent lingering until that, too, was an ephemeral memory.
“And you will always be mine,” he uttered silently, reaching for the phone and the one he had chosen to be his forevermore.
He and Cassie were finally where they belonged. In the past.
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laurasimonsdaughter · 2 years ago
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Hello…! I came across some of your posts on Urban Fantasy Vampire- Werewolf stuff (such a fun idea!) and I was interested. So anyways I have to ask, what are your rules for how they work? I tried finding them myself but I couldn’t find much specifically. Could you help me out here please?
Oh dear, rules... I write vampires and werewolves so much and I write them so often that I don't really have one set of worldbuilding rules for them. One of the fun things is to re-imagine them to suit their particular story! There is so much folklore and fantasy history to draw from you can write both werewolves and vampires with incredible variety and they'll still feel recognizable!
But if I look at all my writing the most reoccurring elements are probably:
My vampires usually...
Don't have to kill the people they feed from. (Because it's sad and impractical.)
Can also feed on animals, but it makes them a little weaker and it probably doesn't taste as good.
Get very overwhelmed drinking from certain humans, other vampires, or people like werewolves, because the blood tastes different or there is something Special about it that makes them drunk, clingy or whatever I like them to be :)
Can share some of their magical healing with humans by feeding them their own blood. (Because it makes everything much, much easier.)
Are severely damaged or outright killed by (direct) sunlight, because they can't be too powerful, but don't automatically go completely unconscious during the day.
Are vampires because they were intentionally turned by another vampire, not because they died in a certain way or were only bitten.
Are not harmed by religious symbols, simply because I'm not very comfortable writing about religious faith.
My werewolves usually...
Can't transform at will, but do not only transform during the full moon. Meaning they either get toothier and hairier the closer it gets to full moon, or it's very tied to their emotions and they get sharp teeth or change eye colour when they lose their cool or act on instinct.
Sometimes struggle with being a werewolf but don't hate being a werewolf and don't turn into uncontrolled monsters when they turn. (That's a great narrative element if you write tragedy or darker fiction, but that's not my jam.)
Can be very dangerous, but generally don't kill people and are more likely to eat a lot of rare steak before the full moon than to hunt living animals once transformed.
Are physically complete wolves as long as the full moon is in the night's sky. (Doesn't matter if the moon is behind the clouds.) They might keep their full human reasoning and be able to do things a normal wold never could, but they do not walk on their hind legs, don't use their paws as hands and cannot talk.
Are harmed specifically by silver, but are not invincible to everything else, even though they are very strong, have a high pain threshold and heal quickly.
Are werewolves because they were born that way, not because they were bitten. (Cause that's sad. And I prefer having big happy werewolf families.)
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mspaint-flower · 7 months ago
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could you draw ghost miku, from deco*27?
thanks!
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👻
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attractthecrows · 4 months ago
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thinking about Alistair in the aftermath of Sy's self-sacrifice where she just left him behind..... he couldn't do anything to save her, he couldn't even see the battle, fuck that must hurt like hell. He can't even GRIEVE. he had someone to talk to about Duncan, but the love of his life gave hers for Ferelden and he doesn't even get the benefit of a few days of privacy because she fucking made him King. he has to LEAD.
but he still goes up to the battleground. he can't not. He has to find her, and he does, and he tenderly, carefully picks up her broken body. Those eyes he loved, closed, that face he loved, expressionless and still. If not for the sickly white shards of bone peeking through her raven hair, the thick dark blood dripping from her nose, she could be asleep. She's not, but she could be. And he carries her - fuck, where??
I can see the well-meaning Andrastian nobility and Chantry priests trying to organize a "proper Andrastian" funeral pyre. But she wasn't Andrastian, and Alistair won't let that happen. No. He watched her bury Tamlen; she will be buried in the Dalish fashion, with cedar branch and oaken staff, and a tree planted for her. A silver birch; her favorite. If he can manage it, in the castle courtyard. What are they going to do, tell the King he can't bury their Hero wherever he damn well pleases?
Even if they tried, I think Anora would back him. Especially if she saw that Dalish ring on his finger, far too small for his hands, but perfectly sized to Mahariel's. She gets it. She didn't get the chance to have a proper funeral for Cailan, after all.
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aroaceleovaldez · 1 year ago
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I'll complain about this until the end of time, but I cannot stand the characterization of nico listening to emo music. please give this kid some metal to listen to, if you wanna keep the silly level of darkness that people try giving him with emo music let him listen to some pretentious black metal or something, but there's no way in hell nico would listen to fucking fall out boy
I respect you anon but I am so sorry, I am the exact opposite.
I love the idea of Nico listening to normie emo music cause it's just easiest to find and he's technologically challenged and also he almost definitely got into it because Thalia handed him her ipod one time when he was 10 to get him to shut up for 5 minutes and he ended up binging MCR's entire discography. Also, he's too nice to be pretentious about anything and he's a huge nerd. All that + Rick saying Nico likes technopop, Nico definitely has like a solid couple hundred plays of Rolling Girl on his probably stolen ipod and if you hit shuffle it's a weird combo of emo hits of the early 2010s, Porter Robinson and Mika, and anime OP jumpscares. If circumstances were slightly different he'd be a scene kid.
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cats-in-the-clouds · 1 year ago
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idk if this has any merit to it so correct me if i’ve got the wrong idea but a thing i’ve been thinking lately is that the biblical dichotomy between jew and gentile (which new testament scripture teaches is no more) is sort of reborn in the modern dichotomy between like.,,, cradle catholic and random atheist/agnostic
point being, God will reach out to everyone. even those who aren’t doing all the little traditional rituals right, even those who don’t know what they’re doing, even those who just walked in out of nowhere. so the former need to remember to have humility and compassion for others who are trying their best to seek truth.
this is not to say the former are doing anything wrong by going through all those motions- of course not! and of course those motions aren’t insignificant; they’ve got so much history and tradition behind them. but ultimately they aren’t what save us. the foreign gentile who just showed up one day is baptized and saved. the deathbed convert is baptized and saved. funny how that is
the devout jewish people of the scriptures and the modern day hardcore tradcaths are neither better nor worse than other people- they are the people fortunate enough to be born in the ‘right’ environment, so encountering Christ and being saved will be much easier for them. but this also means they have a responsibility to do more.
and if they go haywire in the way they behave the consequences will be so much worse because of what they’re supposed to be representing (and i’m sure we all know that biblically the jewish people have caused lots of their own problems and presently. well. a lot of catholics Suck™️. we are all that person sometimes. often. usually)
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gayspock · 2 years ago
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i think part of why i LIKE twin peaks but im not going loopy tunes, is bc i like the vibe and overall feel of the show but there's a lot of characters & individual threads that i feel kinda indifferent towards. sorry. looks guilty and sadly at you with big round eyes. starts whimpering. starts crying. throws up.
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novemquadragintillion · 2 months ago
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#I had an interview recently yay!!#but I don't know how well I did and it's making me nervous 😂#I'm starting to notice a pattern about myself. if an interviewer asks me “what would you do if [insert situation here]?”#my brain immediately imagines myself in the situation but the current me. not a future me.#my interviewer asked me what would I do if a customer complained about a certain problem?#and I didn't know the answer because I haven't gotten the job. this is an interview. I haven't been trained and therefore I don't know the#protocol. so how could I know what to do if a customer complained to me RIGHT NOW about the specific problem?#So I told the interviewer that I didn't know. I would ask for help. because.. the current me doesn't know the process? because I'm just a#potential employee and doesn't know the rules?#And looking back at the interview now.. I should've just said “I would follow the rules regarding that specific problem the customer has”#not whatever I said 😂 “I don't know. I would ask you” 😂#ugh maybe it's nothing. but ugh#the interview felt like it was ok but not great?? Hopefully I get the answer soon. and I hope I don't get ghosted#like. please I went though the horrors of the interview. at least tell me I'm rejected or not!! plz#Meanwhile. this pattern has caused problems at home and at work. throughout my life.#it doesn't happen often but... sometimes a person would ask me to do something Without Specifying The Time.#intending for me to do the thing In The Near Future#but my brain will automatically think that I have to do the thing Now#and simetimes I really really really don't want to do that thing Now. so I complain (I'm sorry)#but the asker is exasperated saying 'you don't have to do it Now! I meant sometime in the future!'#and sometimes after that clarification things go back to normal. but sometimes things get problematic instead.#this pattern of me automatically thinking 'in the present' whenever people actually mean the future whenever they don't specify time....#it can cause problems for myself unintentionally 😂😭 I hope it didn't affect my interview negatively#anyway sorry for the rambling#this random person's ramblings
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strikersin · 5 months ago
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Dreams. Dreams. DREAMS!
The one where I'm watching a movie at Luther's house and she is dressed in almost Russian attire - Fancy, cold, and so beautiful. And we're in bed and I'm explaining my excitement over the Pathologic movie and later we have to deal with zombies but whatever.
And I'm playing with children's toys there. Everyone is so young.
Real life when we were read The Last Unicorn or something, something, at the cafeteria table. The book where the protagonist is taught how to keep her thoughts locked up tight like a box.
Ugh.
#so many connecting strings it's almost like it all MEANS SOMETHING#I just can't believe it. That it doesn't.#and all this time I've... I've spent talking about how our realities are different and how the rules are different... well#this puts that in a perspective that is new.#and it's <<what have you been doing for the last nine months>> from my dad#and it's my general lack of... faith in myself since I got sick. and more accurately when I lost my friend#I feel so stupid. for every little bit of it. for him. for believing in this. (I want to believe). for following my intuition. ("following#yeah. you get the point. I don't know. What Am I even doing. Obviously I'm where I'm supposed to be. I feel so bleak. I want this to be ove#the last NINE MONTHS> you know. the term of a . pregnancy#(pregnant with my delusions maybe)#I just can't even feel happy or experience things without running it through the lens of my father#and I'm worried about him I. want to make sure he's okay and I want him to be safe and happy#it doesn't matter if I KILL MYSELF. it's just too expensive to do so right now and I have a responsibility in Kira. I mean. I do.#Icy telling me that it's going to be March and then for March to be a whirlwind of grief and pain leading into my sickness#and now sitting with this deadline. I think about it every moment of the day I'm not occupied.#UGH. thinking about my hospital bill. that I shouldn't fucking have for a procedure I didn't fucking need. Glad that experience is over.#UGH.#and now back to limerence#what about the dream where I'm actually fucking competent and my method of doing things helps save everyone who was incapacitated#in a very cool Top Gun style.#God. Damn it.#GOD DAMN IT#What am I supposed to do though?? I'm meant to keep living and push on from all of that. How am I supposed to let that go?#I mean everything I hoped and believed in? It's just getting pushed off to accommodate the timeline?#I mean fine? But what?#I was drifting for so long and now?? I'm both healing and losing my mind. man.#God. I'm really disappointed.#nd I have a really hard time doing or accepting nice things for myself because of the Dad Filter#individuate kid. c'mon it doesn't matter what he thinks about your interpersonal relationships#not to mention I have no idea what's going on in his mind. although it's surprising that I did manage to clock what was bothering him
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